What Must Be Done
by LinkIsaacANDLloyd
Summary: A primordial darkness has awakened after the end of a great ten year war which followed the rebirth of the world. To stop this darkness and to save their ailing world, the heroes will need the help of forces just as ancient, if not just as evil...
1. Prolouge

_Author's note: This is a crossover, yes, with Warhammer 40,000. Yes, everyone will be able to follow it. Knowing nothing about Warhammer is NOT a problem. Just read it and treat it as an AU if you wish for all I care. Just don't not read it because of what its crossed with. Now that that's over with, this is just a prologue of sorts. The next chapter contains a full summary for the story setting. Now read, review, but most of all, enjoy!_

_Follow these instructions to get the unofficial theme song to 'What Must be Done': 'Silver Memory'. This site is really gay when it comes to putting weblinks and all that in stories, so I will try and get around whatever messes it up. The song can be found at newgrounds dot com, under the audio portal, and when you get there just do a search for Silver Memory. Simple as that. If you cant find it for whatever reason, just pm me and I'll email you the direct link to it. Its a really cool song._

_Disclaimer: I own neither Tales of Symphonia or Warhammer 40,000. They belong to Namco and Gamesworkshop respectively. And the song Silver Memory on is the property of the newgrounds user 'hania'._

_-_

_Kratos gently eased open the ancient doors, glancing at the intricate runes and symbols which decorated their surface as they swung on old and creaky hinges. The dust poured thickly from the ceiling as the great doors opened entirely, hitting the walls with a thud. He glanced over his shoulder, cautious to make sure none saw him or heard the doors._

_Stepping through the rain of dust and grime, Kratos looked around at the darkened chamber. He frowned, resting his right hand on his sheathed blade and letting the other hang limply at his side. _

_"This won't do..." he muttered, looking around and squinting in the darkness nervously. "A light would have been useful..." Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair and walked into the dark, taking a final fleeting glance over his shoulder as he did._

_As if on cue with his lamentation, the chamber was suddenly bathed in an eerie blue glow. It made seeing possible, but his vision was still poor. His eyes adjusting to the less than delicate light, he moved forward towards the far side of the chamber. _

_Looking around, he wasn't quite sure what to make of the place. He had never been inside before, but he had expected it to awe him beyond belief. In the end, it just disappointed him, hardening his resolve for what he was about to do. _

_The interior was rather bare, with just the occasional ancient wall hanging depicting mysterious scenes and ancient figures and the even rarer candelabra which gave off the blue glow that illuminated the chamber. _

_What did inspire a sense of awe and wonder within Kratos however, were the spider webs which hung from the walls and ceilings near the far end, where a small set of stairs led up to a large pedestal which pulsed with a deep blue energy. _

_The webs seemed to be made of crystal, and they shimmered and reflected beautifully in the blue light. They were woven with impossible intricacy, and Kratos wondered how any spider would possibly be capable of spinning such magnificent constructs. _

_Of course the answer was that no ordinary spider could. Only the warp spiders, microscopic guardians of the Fluir'haern, could manage it. Their presence reassured him of one thing at least - he was in the right place._

_Walking past them, he ascended the stairs and stood before the small pedestal. He could feel warmth radiate from it as it pulsed with a strange energy. There was a small, tear-shaped indentation on the top where the energy seemed to gather, just big enough for his cargo._

_Sighing, he drew a small, tear-shaped stone out of a pouch on his waist. It glowed an almost malicious shade of crimson, so much like that of blood. He could hear screaming echoing in his ear, and the rhythmic beating of a thousand dieing hearts as he lifted it over the indentation._

_Shutting his eyes against the torrent of mental screams and resistance to his horrendous act, he plunged the stone into the pedestal._

_Stumbling backward down the stairs, desperate to get away from the stone and the pedestal, he fell onto his back. Looking up at the pedestal, he saw thick tendrils of black smoke rise from the stone slowly as he heard in his mind the collective cries of agony from thousands of souls as they died, slowly and painfully. _

_The black smoke began to coagulate into a thick crimson mess which rained on the floor along with a quiet but all to real laughter resonating from seemingly nowhere. _

_Blood, and the madness of the maelstrom he had opened in the most holy of places. Sha'iel erupted in a storm of electrical bolts, searing walls and shattering the magnificent webs in spectacular explosions of billions of tiny glimmering shards._

_It poured thickly down the stairs as the cries of pain filled the air around him, no longer contained within his mind. Covering his ears and screaming, he got up and ran as fast as he could from the sight._

_Reaching the doors, he slammed them shut and set his back against them, sinking to the floor and openly weeping. He shot up instantly when a great force pounded on the inside of the doors. Painful moans and vicious snarls could faintly be heard on the other side as something banged on the door, trying to get out, trying to slaughter him._

_He fell away from the massive, rune encrusted doors, allowing them to automatically seal themselves with countless wards and psychic locks, trapping the monstrosities he had unleashed within. On his hands and knees before the door, he wept, his heart and mind weary from the pain he himself had spawned and let loose on his departed kinsmen. _

"_Mother Isha...forgive me..."_

_Standing up, he wiped his eyes and set his view straight ahead, his eyes burning with red hot passion and desire. He felt a sudden surge of sadness amongst his growing anger, and pulled a necklace bearing a small tear-shaped stone out from under his clothes where it had rested against his bare chest. _

_  
Cradling it in both hands, he regarded its perfectly smooth and blue surface, running his fingers over it slowly. He sighed deeply, putting the necklace back under his clothes and looking straight ahead once more, his eyes cold and heavy with sorrow._

"_...Are these the sacrifices that must be made...for our future? Is this truly...what must be done...?"_

_The image of a thousand whispering faces with a thousand different tongues and features flickered across his mind's eye for a brief second, so sudden and quick he barely registered that he had seen it at all. Sighing, he took a step away from the doors and did not glance back, walking toward the habitat zones, his eyes radiating an evil darker than any night._


	2. An End to the War: Part 1

-1Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to update. I've just been busy lately, and this has gone through quite some extensive changes since I first began writing it. I've decided, for everyone's sake, to include a full summary below. As it stands now, there doesn't seem to be any connection to Warhammer 40,000. That will change in the future, but for now I'm 'preparing' ToS, so to speak, for the brutality of 40K. What is happening with ToS now will also make it far more conceivable that the people of Symphonia could stand a chance against anything from 40K. That didn't make much sense in my other two fics. Especially when I had average people fighting and killing(or rather, banishing) deamons of Khorne...now that was funny. R&R please!

-

Full Summary:

It has been ten years since the rebirth of the world. After Derris-Kharlan left Symphonia behind forever, the reunited worlds enjoyed a short period of peace. Yet this was quickly broken, and all the hopes and dreams of Lloyd and the others, everything they had fought so hard and given so much for, died with that peace.

The surviving desians quickly banded together following the fall of Cruxis, gaining many, new recruits from the half-elves of Tethe'alla who were sick of oppression, even though the King announced the annulment of all laws that placed half-elves at a sub-human level in society.

Amidst the regrouping desians, large groups of human came forward with an eye for potential profit to be made. Without their human ranches, the desians were unable to make exspheres for their soldiers. But these men, driven almost mad by greed, formed extensive networks of underground exsphere brokering which the desians, as half-elves, were unable to do themselves.

These cartel lords even eventually redeveloped the means to create exspheres, and what fragile peace had remained was shattered when the combined people of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla, both equally horrified at the prospect of a second coming of the desians and their genocidal regime, attacked.

Just two years after the reunification of the two worlds, the entire planet was quickly embroiled in the escalating conflict. Soon the entire world was at war, the newly formed Desian Empire and the exsphere cartel lords and their lackeys against the forces of the United Peoples of Symphonia, a collective of humans, elves, and half-elves from both worlds. The name given to this conflict fit it perfectly, for it was but a tragic emulation of the first; The Second Kharlan War.

The war, so seemingly in favor of the United Peoples, quickly turned into a bitter stalemate. To break it and end the war, technology of destruction surged forward. The return of infinite mana to the world brought back progress, but it was a different kind of progress than anyone could have hoped for.

Magi-technology quickly returned, and the devastation magi-weaponry inflicted was on a scale not seen since the ancient war. The ranged firepower provided by portable mana-launchers and their various larger counterparts devastated the battlefields for the next eight years and broke the stalemate, the two forces falling back and attacking in equal, bloody measure.

Amidst all the conflict, the heroes stood appalled at what had become of the perfect world they had envisioned. Lloyd especially was enraged, and instantly threw himself at the foe who had ruined everything he had fought so hard for.

Now, the conflict is coming to a close. The forces of the UPS have pushed back the Desian Empire to their capitol at the Toize Valley Mine. Lloyd and Zelos lead the final attack, their desperation to end the war driving them to strike at the heart of the foe and end the war quickly, even if that means putting everything on the line for one final strike.

But even if the war is finally brought to a close, there are far more sinister things than desians and cartel lords working against the people of Symphonia. A new age dawns for Symphonia as an ancient darkness falls over the world and a prophecy older than the world comes to fruition. Blood will run in rivers and Symphonia will seethe in agony at the struggle to come, but the heroes will not fall without a fight.

-

The sky was overcast, a light drizzle falling in the region for the first time in months as if in a desperate attempt to revive the dead plant life. Great cracks of thunder and flashes of lightning could be seen off in the distance over the sea. A storm was coming.

Wind whipped and buffeted everything in its path, the true nature of the storm becoming rapidly apparent. It would be a big one, a violent one. The twenty thousand men marching in orderly ranks grimaced as they stole glances out to sea, the black clouds drifting ever closer unnerving even the best of them.

For if they were not in shelter when the storm hit, they would be torn to pieces by its ferocity. They would be trapped against the mountains to their left by the wind and rain, and on the plains where they now marched, where not a single tree grew, lightning would be drawn to their metal armor like moths to a flame. Not to mention the ocean itself would swell, great waves crashing into them and dragging them back in the rip tide, pulling them out to sea, never to be seen again.

When they were urged to march faster then, they did so without hesitation. Before them stood the key to their salvation, or the thing which would break them, leaving them for the storm to sort out.

Barring what had once been the main land route to the Toize Valley Mine stood a massive fortress, partially built into the mountains and almost certainly connected to the mines by way of an intricate tunnel network.

Massive walls starting at the mountains ran to the cliffs that overlooked the sea before turning to run along the cliffs and then all the way to the mine, preventing any form of assault from the cliffs. Great towers and citadels rose from behind the walls, great crimson banners bearing the heraldry of the desians fluttering in the wind at their tops.

The men knew there would be big guns as well, built into the very wall and designed for maximum range and destruction. Defenders would line the wall and fire down on any attacker with brutal efficiency, making a frontal assault a suicidal one.

And yet, it was there only choice. The mountains were completely impassable except by air, and it was well known that the enemy was well equipped with the means to annihilate any form of aircraft that attempted to disgorge soldiers in the lower mountains where they could then assault the fortress.

The walls were to large to scale and the gates to strong to bust open without losing hundreds of men moving up the siege engines that could actually do damage to them. Their only hope at all was to smash the walls to pieces from afar.

Shivering as the wind grew stronger, the men in front watched their leaders closely as they took a step forward, eyeing the fortress and talking seriously amongst themselves, their faces grim. They knew all to well what would happen if they failed here.

"Now that is one big fortress. You think we can actually get in?" asked Zelos calmly, not actually concerned about it in the slightest.

Lloyd nodded slowly, saying, "There isn't anything they can do to even slow us down, even if they are hiding behind countless tons of rock and hundreds of feet of wall. We've hunted these bastards for a long time, and now that they've holed themselves up in their last hideout they have nowhere else to run."

Looking towards his friend, Zelos cocked and eyebrow and pursed his lips slightly. "Wouldn't that make them fight with all the desperation of, say, a cornered animal?"

"It might," agreed Lloyd after a few moments of silence, "but then, that's the soldiers you're talking about. We're after the cartel lords and the desian leaders, and they're nothing but overfed and arrogant slobs. We've been authorized to kill them on sight, and for what they've done these past few years, them and the rest of the scum like them, I will have no problem slaughtering them when the time comes."

Zelos visibly recoiled a bit, still not used to hearing Lloyd say things so harshly even after the long years at war by his side. War could change even the nicest man into a monster, he knew that. Somehow though, he had thought Lloyd would rise above that and not succumb to the pressure and agony of the struggle.

But, he realized the war had been longer and harder than most cared to even think about. To many had died already for something Lloyd, himself, and the others had already gone to incredible lengths for. Watching as his greatest dream and ambition for the world crumbled to dust beneath the fires of war had clearly driven Lloyd to a point close to madness, where his desire to spill the blood of his foes was all that truly kept him sane.

It certainly didn't help that of their friends, he was the only one Lloyd had seen in five whole years. Such was the scale and sheer brutality of this final offensive, that most soldiers, even the high ranking officers generally exempt from such rules, had not seen neither friend nor family aside from whom they served with for just as many if not more years.

Zelos briefly wondered if Lloyd would even see them in the same light when this was all over and they could go home. Would his entire outlook on life be tainted forever by the war? Zelos couldn't help but wonder, with a slight degree of worry, would his as well?

Lloyd's voice, loud and hoarse, shouted some incoherent thing, knocking Zelos' train of thought astray. Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, Zelos clenched his teeth and braced himself for what he knew would come next, having experienced it many times before.

The air was torn apart with a loud screech as a violent discharge of pure mana ripped through the sky overhead, streaking towards the walls of the fortress and hitting directly on the ramparts, obliterating a large chunk of masonry and many men instantly when it impacted.

Next to him, Lloyd laughed, actually finding some sick pleasure in watching men being blown to unrecognizable chunks of bloody meat. But then, Lloyd viewed these men as his tormentors; the breakers of his dreams and ideology. It was sick, yet oddly justified, that Lloyd should enjoy their torment. Zelos shivered when he realized he too was enjoying the sight.

"Bring those walls down! Aim for the middle, not the top!" roared Lloyd. The artillery officers shouted back incoherently, acknowledging his order and making the necessary adjustments to their bulky equipment.

Lloyd smiled at Zelos who smiled back. "Looks like there will be no problem getting in after all, Zelos." The former chosen nodded, his gaze returning to the wall as scores more bolts of mana tore through the sky, using the coordinates of the first shot to perfect their own aim and score direct hits on the walls.

Huge chunks of masonry tumbled to the ground in a growing cloud of dust, the flailing forms of men scantly visible amongst the falling rubble. The very ground seemed to shake as the massive weight of the wall came down upon it suddenly and violently.

Some of the enemy guns began to return fire, large bolts of mana streaking towards them. Some of their cannons were obliterated, their operators torn into countless bloody shreds and droplets of gore as the mana flayed their flesh from their bones.

The screams were terrible, but the noise of the wall was greater. At first they thought it was thunder when the massive crack split the air, but then they looked towards the wall and they saw what it truly was. After facing the vicious bombardment head on for many minutes, the great walls finally conceded defeat. Groaning and creaking in protest, the entire portion of the wall facing them collapsed on itself or fell over, smashing into the ground and kicking up a thick cloud of dust which blocked the entire fortress from view.

Every man jumped as the main chunk slammed into the earth, the ground shaking with the force of the impact as cracks and rumbles like thunder split the air many times before all was still.

As the dust parted slowly, all that remained was a massive field of rubble, filled with hundreds of twitching, half-buried bodies. The occasional gout of sparks erupted high into the air, marking the destruction of one of the great cannons which had graced the wall.

A loud cheer went up from the army as they realized the way was now clear. Commanders drew their swords, their blades shining with terrible energies, and pointed towards the now wide open fortress, sounding the charge without hesitation.

Zelos found himself pushed to the fore of the charge, Lloyd running besides him. Zelos gritted his teeth and drew his sword as they neared the rubble, knowing that if he tripped or slowed down in any way, he would be trampled mercilessly by the twenty thousand raging warriors behind him.

The final battle of the Second Kharlan War had truly begun!

-

The charge faltered when it reached the rubble, men skidding to a halt as they ran into the back of their comrades as they scrambled over large chunks of wall. Many tripped and fell, only to be trampled by allies desperate to climb the rubble and escape the writhing mob behind them.

It was a massive pile, far bigger than any of them had imagined. Even with the wall gone, the defenders would still have a massive advantage if they would reach the top of the pile before they did.

As if on cue, the shouts of the enemy, almost inaudible, could be heard from the other side. It soon became apparent to everyone on both sides. The first to reach the top would almost certainly win the battle.

Men redoubled their efforts, pushing themselves to the limits of their endurance as they sprinted, leapt, and climbed the pile of rubble. But luck was not with them on that day.

The black armored forms of desians appeared on the top, lugging heavy mana-launchers and hurriedly setting them up on tripods. A collective hiss of shock and anger went up from the ranks of the UPS, and they surged forwards, desperate to stop the enemy from setting up the heavy weapons.

Before they could even get close however, more desians appeared on the top, firing at the wide open UPS soldiers with their long magi-rifles, butchering them as they scrambled behind whatever form of cover they could find.

"Get to cover! Don't present a target!" cried Lloyd as he crouched behind large chunk of masonry. "Return fire whenever you get the chance, just don't stop moving up! We can't let them pin us!"

He unslung his compact mana-stubber and leapt from his hiding place, blasting scores of mana-bolts towards the desians and killing many as he sprinted up the rubble to another chunk of wall which would provide him with cover.

From their hiding spots, many men witnessed Lloyd daring feat and the tally he reaped amongst the enemy. They were filled with renewed valor and many leapt from cover, charging up the rubble and firing towards the desians.

Zelos whooped as he dived to cover next to Lloyd, a mana-bolt obliterating a piece of the ground where he had been standing a second before. He pressed himself up against the rubble next to Lloyd, panting as he fed fresh bolts into his mana-stubber.

"Quite the predicament, eh Lloyd?" he asked, not looking up from his ministrations to his weapon.

"I'll say! The desians are entrenched and will have their launches up momentarily, and they will be joined by more heavy weaponry before long." He leaned to his right and peered around the rock, seeing a large group of charging soldiers shredded by large mana-bolts fired from heavy weapons. "Damn! They've got them set up!"

"What are we supposed to do then? How can we possibly break through if we can't even get close enough to get a shot off without being blown to pieces?" asked Zelos, rolling to the left and taking out a desian with a spray of mana-bolts before rolling back.

"What we need to do, is close to melee range. We can kill the gunners and turn the launchers around on them, then it will be a simple matter of fighting down the other side."

Lloyd slowly stood up, keeping slightly crouched so his head would not be visible. Leaning to the right, he peered around the rubble towards the desians at the top, who were scanning for targets but not firing.

Turning back to Zelos, he said, "Well all the men must be in cover. The desians aren't shooting at anything. But every second we waste hiding in cover is another second the desians have to recover from the chaos we wrought by bringing down the wall."

Zelos nodded slowly, pointing towards a rock further up which would give a relatively clear shot at the gunners. Lloyd smiled, nodding in understanding before grimacing in annoyance.

"Moving there will put us directly in front of them. Are you trying to get killed?" he spat, disgruntled that their only workable plan so far was suddenly useless.

"We could order in fire mission."

Lloyd turned towards Zelos slowly, a hint of surprise hidden behind his hardened features. "What?"

"A fire mission. The cannons will be able to hit that position just fine." 

"I don't doubt that they could, after quite a few misses. With so many men so close to the target, that would likely do more damage than good. And all the rheiard fleets are engaged on the other side of the mountains, so we won't be getting any help there."

Zelos furrowed his brow, thinking hard as Lloyd began pacing back and forth, his grip on his stubber tight as his finger hovered just over the trigger. "Order a full assault on that position," he said suddenly.

"What?" asked Zelos, appalled at receiving such an order.

"Just do it!"

Nodding slowly, his displeasure evident, Zelos pulled the magi-caster from its holster at his waste. There was a roar of static as he tuned it in to the correct frequency.

"All units, you are ordered to continue the attack. I repeat, continue the attack. Break from cover and use any means necessary to reach the top and kill the desians. Do not stop until you reach the top!"

Zelos looked towards Lloyd, gritting his teeth in disgust. "You know how many men will die now!?" Lloyd walked up to him, putting his face just millimeters from Zelos'.

"You do realize we're at war? That this war has gone on long enough and claimed enough lives? If we can end this now, then there is no reason what so ever to hold anything back. The sacrifice of thousands here will save millions more. Remember that," he spat, turning away form Zelos and drawing one his swords and holding his stubber in his other hand. "Lets do this."

The roar of heavy weapons could be heard from the top as men broke cover all over and charged towards the top in a massive wave, firing towards the entrenched foe with grim determination. Lloyd and Zelos vaulted from their hiding spot, sprinting towards the rubble indicated by Zelos earlier as men rushed past them into the line of fire.

Hundreds were lying dead or dieing all across the slope as they reached the position. With grim perfection they rolled around the sides of the rubble, opening fire on the desians and sending scores of mana-bolts screaming towards them.

The gunners were the first to die, shredded by the torrential salvo. Then, those that tried to take their place fell, their smoking corpses lying atop their dead comrades in grotesque heaps of mangled and charred flesh.

Cheering men overtook the few remaining desians on the top, cutting them down with cold steel or blasting them with their mana-carbines. Lloyd and Zelos were quickly among them, directing the weapons of the desians be turned to face the other way.

Shouts of indignation from desians making the trek up the slope were cut short as their own weapons opened up on them, knocking them form their feet and shredding them all at once in a tide of bloody spatter that bathed the rubble red.

"Come on! Let's finish this!" roared Lloyd over the cheering of the men. He slung his stubber over his shoulder and drew his other sword, charging down the steep slope at a breakneck pace. Hundreds of whooping men followed him down as Zelos remained at the top, directing the fortification of the position and directing fire missions for the cannons back in the field. The sky was filled with massive mana-bolts once again as more men poured down the slope into the fortress.

But though the desians had suffered a massive setback with the loss of the breach, they were far from defeated, and much blood would be spilt before they would finally cast down.

-

AN: I don't like posting insanely long chapters, so I stopped ended it there. Since chapter two is pretty much just one big action scene, it shouldn't take me long to update because I thoroughly enjoy writing those. Anyway, review please and let me know if you see any major errors that my revising missed. I'd like to patch up anything of the sort now before I get to far into it.


	3. An End to the War: Part 2

-1AN: I apologize to anyone who doesn't like chapters that are nothing more than one huge action scene, but here it is. Why wouldn't you want to read about badass Lloyd going all crazy and tearing desians to pieces though? I mean, seriously? And I would really like to know what you people think of my Lloyd. Is he to vicious? I'm kind of going for what happened to the Prince between the Sands of Time and Warrior Within (Prince of Persia series btw, if you didn't know. Kicks ass, check it out) where he becomes almost a different person. Am I succeeding, or is it to soon to tell? Read, enjoy, and, if possible, review.

-

Lloyd reached the bottom of the slope with the force of a meteor. Thousands of desians were running towards the breach frantically, firing withering salvoes into the descending men of Tethe'alla as they closed the gap to melee range. But Lloyd was not concerned with anything but what was in front of him.

Five desians charged to meet him as he set foot on flat ground. Five headless corpses slumped to the ground moments later, blood spurting from their severed necks as Lloyd ran onward, not losing any speed.

His momentum still strong, Lloyd continued his charge, throwing himself at the nearest group of enemies and launching himself into them spread-eagle with a cry. They were to shocked by his ferocity to do anything as he dragged them to the ground and butchered them with wild swings from his swords as they laid there helplessly.

Leaping to his feet, he struck low at a desian coming quickly towards him from his left, catching his foe in the shin and cutting right through flesh and bone. The man screamed as he stumbled, Lloyd's swords plunging into his back and tearing his spine to pieces before he had even hit the ground

Ripping his blades free, he split the skull of one coming from the right and, reversing the grip on his other sword, thrust it behind him and into the chest of a desian who had thought he was being rather clever to sneak up behind Lloyd.

Over his own heavy breathing and the screams he stole from the enemies' lips, the din of combat quickly began escalating. Soldiers of the UPS were pouring over the wall of rubble that filled the breach like an unstoppable tide, crashing into the desian host that desperately defended its fortress in a fit of twisted and shattered armor and bloodied and battered bodies.

The nature of the battle had filled almost every man on both sides with a fury born of desperation. Each man knew what was at stake. For the soldiers of the United Peoples, victory would end the war they had already bled so hard for. Loss would only prolong the already to long and to bloody conflict for years to come.

For the desians, victory was their only hope of survival. The vengeful soldiers of the UPS would annihilate them to the last man, woman, and child. And even in victory, their chances of winning the war were slim. For them, they had no choice but victory, or they faced death.

Lloyd was among those most profoundly affected by the war. After so much hardship, he had finally thought to see the world enter an age of prosperity, understanding, and peace. Instead, the forces he had thought to unleash for the purpose of progress and knowledge were taken and warped into facets of destruction and death.

Guilt, as well as anger, clawed at him. Whose fault truly was it? His for restoring the worlds? The greed of humanity and the desians which revived the use of exspheres? It was to late to point any blame. It had all come down to a simple equation in the end: kill the desians and their allies or let the world be overrun with their mad quests for power.

And that is exactly what he had done the past eight years of his life. It was what he would continue to do, until the whole world would finally be free of fear, suffering, and conflict.

Scores came at him, but he cut them down grimly one by one, his swords rising and falling with almost superhuman speed. His heart hammered deafeningly in his ear and he roared, rushing forward to meet the next wave of attackers.

Had he not been in a blind rage of mad slaughter, he would have noticed his over zealous charge had left him surrounded by hundreds of enemies, an insignificant speck in a swarming see of flesh and bone and steel. The lines of battle had been drawn, Lloyd had been cut off at some point, and the two great hosts were butchering each other before the rubble of the breach, each trying to gain the upper hand and force the other one back.

But for the desians, there could be no victory there. The armies of the United Peoples had the high ground firmly in their control, and volley after volley of well aimed rifle shots and bursts of automatic fire from the top of the rubble punished the desians dearly.

But it wasn't good enough. There were simply to many desians, and they refused to back down. The desians needed to be defeated faster though, as the storm would hit soon. They needed a foothold inside the fortress before it did, so they wouldn't be caught between it and the desperate desian defenders. From his perch atop the rubble, Zelos made sure they got that foothold as he sent his chosen coordinates to the artillery.

Scores of screeching white bolts soared over the breech, turning downwards and discharging incredible amounts of energy as they landed on the desians. There were no screams from the dead; they were incinerated either instantly or so severely that they could no longer do anything but lay on the ground and feel pain as they slowly died. Those not killed were flung violently through the air, killed painfully from the impact as they smashed into comrades in midair or the ground at the end of their flight.

Lloyd roared, striking downward with his swords and cutting down two desians. Another fell as he twisted the blades to face up, slashing upwards in a lightning fast uppercut that removed his victim of most of their face.

He struck left and right as desians closed in on all sides, desperate to take out the mad man that was single handedly butchering scores of their comrades. A desian came up behind him and raised his sword in a reversed grip, seconds from plunging it into Lloyd's back and severing his spine when one of the mana-bombs went off behind the scene in a glorious flash of superheated white light.

Lloyd was thrown forward as the enemies all around him crumbled to ash, their deaths so sudden precious few had even a slight grimace of agony on their features before they fell apart. The desian that almost ended his life ended up saving him, his enemy's body shielding him from most of the heat.

None the less he had not escaped unscathed. most of his armor was charred irreversibly black, and the armor on his back was melted. He cried out as he tried to stand, the melted armor sticking to his skin and burning off much of it as the metal slowly cooled. He was still fortunate however, as the air was filled with the dust and smoke from scores of other explosions, effectively hiding him in his vulnerable state from any enemies who would have liked to finish him off.

Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, he gained his feet and took a few shaky steps forward, nearly fainting at the agony. Smaller caliber artillery exploded all around him and he stumbled forward to his knees, crying out as a small piece of shrapnel pierced his cheek.

Dimly he heard cheering from behind him, and the rush of footsteps and screams told him the desians were retreating. Through watery eyes he looked up at the massive tower which appeared before him as the dust slowly cleared. He snarled in anger, rising to his feet and flinching slightly as his flesh tore and bled against his ruined armor.

With a great effort and incredible agony, he pulled off his armor and threw it to the ground. His back was irreversibly scarred and he felt impossible weak as melted flesh dripped off his back with astounding amounts of blood.

Looking up at the tower again, he narrowed his eyes. Up there was someone whom he was to have a reckoning with. The man who ruined everything for him, and the rest of the world.

Roaring in anger, he spun instinctively as a retreating desian attempted to bring him down unawares. Lloyd caught his wrist, pulling him in close and driving a knee into his abdomen. He wheezed and doubled over, and Lloyd smashed his elbow on the back of his neck and kicked him savagely in the face when he hit the ground. Other desians in retreat saw their comrade's painful and brutal death, wisely giving Lloyd a wide berth.

Bending down, Lloyd picked up his enemy's fallen sword. Then, turning towards his ruined armor, he somehow managed to salvage his stubber from the mess of distorted metal. Squads of UPS soldiers moved swiftly behind him and advanced rapidly, forming a perimeter around the tower and cutting down every desian they came into contact with.

Panting heavily, Lloyd followed as men began moving into the tower, screams piercing the air as all tactical sense was abandoned in the close confines of the tower's halls. Men charged in fanatically, drawing their swords and crying shrilly as they were set upon by the desperate defenders.

A great mass of men pressed towards the door, all of them seeking entrance, though the passage was big enough for only two men at a time. Screams of rage and agony split the air along with loud shots and bursts of light from the tower interior as several men collapsed to the ground, smoking holes of charred flesh and coagulated blood leaving much of their bodies unrecognizable.

Return fire through the entrance brought equal pain to the desians within and despite the danger men crowded around, forcing their way in and clambering over the dead and striking down desians wherever they were found.

Lloyd shook his head, knowing each of the men was an outright fool. The desians were simply to entrenched throughout the tower's long corridors. No living thing could hope to run the vicious gauntlet of fire the desians had set up and survive, no matter how great their number.

Not to be discouraged, Lloyd fitted a grapple device over the barrel of his stubber. Aiming it towards the higher windows, he pulled the trigger. A long cable shot out, the razor sharp hook on its end embedding itself deep in the stone above a window and holding firm as Lloyd tested its strength.

Smiling grimly, he released the trigger and was pulled blindingly fast towards where the hook was embedded. When he was almost there he pulled the trigger again, the mechanism no longer automatically pulling him up, though he continued upwards just enough to plant his feet on the small ledge above the window where the hook was.

With a healthy amount of slack still in the cable Lloyd crouched on the ledge and leapt backwards, somersaulting backwards and into empty space. Within moments the cable went taught and he came swinging back.

His feet out in front of him as some kind of battering ram, he hurtled towards the window...

-

The window exploded inwards in a storm of shattered glass, the desian idling nearby it stumbling to the ground in a gasp of pain, stricken by hundreds of shards of high velocity glass shrapnel. With movements fast enough to be lost to less acute individuals, Lloyd disengaged the grapple device and flipped over completely in the air before landing neatly, his stubber pointing towards the room's shocked inhabitants before he even hit the floor.

Stunned by the suddenness of his intrusion, the desians stood unable to recover their poise for a few precious moments. It cost them their lives. Lloyd charged forward, one of his swords drawn as he fired his stubber one handed, knocking most of them off their feet in a hail of solidified mana and shredded flesh.

Those few that remained standing when he reached them fumbled to draw their swords, but he was on them before they got them so much as a fraction from their sheaths. Their bodies fell limply to the ground, stricken with gaping holes in their chests and abdomens from Lloyd's blade and point-blank stubber blasts.

"Fools! Kill him! Now!" cried a shrill voice from across the room. Lloyd wheeled about to face the source, finding several well armed desians standing as shield in front of a rather bloated old man, his skin and hair oily and extremely pail. He wore ragged robes of white, stained with countless forms of foodstuff and drink, and his eyes were bloodshot and yellowed. Lloyd narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He stood before one of the exsphere cartel lords, his depraved madness evident on sight of him.

"What are you waiting for!? Kill him! I have things to do!"

With a roar Lloyd threw himself towards the group, firing his stubber until it ran dry and knocking two desians off their feet, neither of which got up. Before he could reload or close to melee range, the remaining desians swung their heavy ravager assault rifles up to face him.

"Oh..." He dived towards the desk that sat at the center of the room, taking refuge beneath it as the first shots rang out. "...shit!" The heavy caliber bolts from the ravagers shredded the desk to pieces around him, a whirlwind of woodchips and paper making him cover his face lest he be blinded.

A shot grazed his right shoulder and he seethed in anger, taking a firm stance and shoving his unhurt shoulder against the mangled furniture with all his might. The desians continued to shoot as he lifted it cleanly off the ground and charged towards them.

Their cries of dismay were lost when he collided with them, the desk crushing them and shattering in a storm of dust and woodchips and shredded paper. Those that survived groaned in agony as they tried to sit up and turn their rifles on Lloyd again. He was among them in an instant, putting them down for good with his blades.

A hiss of rage from the other side of the room caught his attention as he panted heavily. He turned to see the cartel lord making his way towards the double doors that led out of his now ruined office. The man snarled at Lloyd like an animal as he reached for the doorknob.

In a flash, one of Lloyd's swords embedded between the doors and jammed them shut. Shrieking in rage, the man tried to wedge the sword out of place as Lloyd bent down and retrieved two of their fallen desians' ravagers.

He strode slowly towards the cartel lord, who whimpered when he realized his only chance at escape was gone and he turned to see Lloyd coming at him, two ravagers pointed right at his face.

"Come on now, boy!" he moaned pathetically. "Don't be killing me in my own office! Stuff like that isn't to nice, you know? Besides, I could make it worth your while!" he finished in a singsong tone that made Lloyd cringe.

Moving quickly, Lloyd put one of the assault rifles over his back in place of his discarded stubber and advanced on the quivering and smiling man, smashing the butt of the other rifle into his chin and flooring him instantly. He looked up as Lloyd put the barrel of the rifle in his mouth, his eyes glazed over as he groaned in pain.

"You sicken me." began Lloyd. "You and the rest of the cartel lords. That you would forsake not just your fellow people, but all life for the sake of wealth and power affords you no mercy. No bargaining rights when push comes to shove, you bastard. Death is the only thing I have for you. Death and contempt. Die now, and may your soul forever rot in the torment of the people you condemned!"

He pulled the barrel from his mouth and placed it at his crotch, pulling the trigger and stitching a hail of bolts up his body to his forehead. The former cartel lord jerked and heaved spasmodically in his death roes, blood bubbling from his vicious series of wounds and spreading from beneath him in a slowly expanding puddle.

Lloyd spat on the corpse, turning the ravager towards the door and blowing it apart in a hail of mana. He strolled through the ruins grimly, snatching up his sword in the process. He looked from left to right, listening intently.

From the right, he could hear sounds of combat growing slowly louder but still a ways off. From the left, nothing but stark silence. He nodded to himself and set off to the left. Down this route he would find the rest of the cartel lords. Not to mention the architect of the entire war; the bringer of ruin and despair to a world that had once known only hope and infinite promise for a bountiful future.

Lloyd seethed at the thought of the man and quickened his pace. He would find this man and he would kill him. There could be no alternative. There could be no end to the war without his head firmly planted on a pike to overlook the misery he created for the sake of power.

He felt his stomach begin to churn as his anger reached the breaking point. He stormed down the hallway and up any stairs he came across, screaming loudly his fury. Many desians simply hid as he passed, self-preservation overcoming any sense of loyalty they had for the doomed Desians Empire.

The desians were on their knees and soon the Second Kharlan War would finally be over. But first, a reckoning was at hand; one that would shape the destiny of the entire world.

-

AN: Next chapter is the end of the battle and Lloyd's first of what will be many epic face offs. After that, the plot will begin moving as the rest of the ToS characters come in and we actually get a few chapters without ANY death. Can you imagine that? Heh... Again, no apparent Warhammer connection yet. Just wait a few chapters, and it will come, you'll see(Well, you'll see the connection, but the ToS cast obviously wont! "Uhh Emperor of Man? Wtf?"). And it will be EPIC. I promise.


	4. An End to the War: Conclusion

**AN:** I revised the horrible ending! YES! Its much better now I think, so go take a look. I didn't touch the rest of the chapter, since after reading through it I thought it wasn't half bad. I will try my best to update soon in any case.

I've decided the disclaimer in the first chapter is enough, plus I'm to lazy to copy and paste it in here.

Read and review! It will get better next chapter, I swear!

-

Snarling in rage, Lloyd deflected the desian's clumsy swing and backhanded the soldier with his other hand. Crying out in pain and stumbling backwards, there was no escape for the desian as Lloyd caught it by the throat and pulled it back to him. Despite its struggles, Lloyd had no trouble pulling it in, grabbing hold of its head, and smashing the unfortunate face-first into the wall.

The desian crumpled to the floor, its skull fatally smashed, and Lloyd turned around to be met by two more desians charging him and desperately swinging their swords in a futile attempt to ward off their foe. Almost smiling at their weakness, Lloyd strode forward and battered his way through their clumsy guards and knocked one against the wall and the other to the ground.

Grabbing the one steadying himself against the wall, he threw them on top of their comrade who was lying dazed on the ground. Without giving them a chance to get up, Lloyd thrust one of his swords through both opponents. They cried out in agony and Lloyd pushed against the sword some more, driving it into the floor and pinning them there as they died a slow and painful death.

Stepping past his grisly work, Lloyd eyed the end of the hallway and its large ornately decorated doors with malice. He was so close now. So close. He could almost taste it on the air, so bittersweet and wonderful after so much hardship: victory.

Yes, behind those doors was victory. But first he would have to win it. As desians flooded into the corridor to block his way to the door, Lloyd couldn't help but smile.

Racking the slide on his ravager, he aimed it towards the desians and fired on full auto. Most fell, but many ducked to cover behind their dead comrades or inside doorways. Blasting away chunks of wall and the desians cowering behind them as he went, Lloyd slowly advanced towards the doors.

-

There was no grand fanfare, no great shock and awe, when the doors swung open and the light of the hallway came pouring into the dark chamber. They merely opened up painstakingly slowly, cries of agony from the hallway outside breaking the uneasy silence within the chamber. As a lone figure stepped through the door frame, two swords dripping blood gripped its hands, a hundred gun barrels were trained on its battered form.

The figure stepped clear of the doors towards the center of the chamber and stopped, standing perfectly still with its swords held limply at its sides. It didn't even move when the doors slammed shut behind it, the loud clicks and mechanical snaps indicating the operation of some elaborate locking mechanism.

"I know you're there." said the figure coldly, staring into the darkness.

There was a long moment of tense silence before laughter began to echo throughout the chamber from the far end. Suddenly, the chamber was bathed in a bright light which temporarily blinded its occupants. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all covered in thick bronze plates, intricate and barbaric images carved onto their surfaces. A hundred desians equipped with ravagers and mana-blades wearing crimson armor stood at the far end on a series of ledges, each one higher off the ground and further back than the one before it. A single staircase ran through the center of each ledge from the floor all the way to the top.

On the highest tier of the peculiar construction was a bleach white throne, which upon closer inspection was actually made out of skulls. The figure standing in the center of the long chamber tensed up when it beheld the figure sitting cross-legged on the throne, the most notable thing about the figure being that they were completely nude, shaven, and pale as snow.

"Lloyd Irving," the Desian Empress purred, "its nice to see you could finally find your way here so we could meet...face to face. I have been watching you for a long time..." Slowly, she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward, placing her elbows on her knees and crossing her fingers together, resting her chin on the backs of her hands. "Have I proved hospitable enough?"

Lloyd snarled and took a step forward, swords raised into a fighting stance as he glared maliciously towards her. The desians tensed and tightened their grips on their rifles, casting wary glances towards their Empress.

"Keep your guns off him, fools," she ordered curtly. Uneasily, her underlings complied, shrinking back and bowing their heads. "There are some pests trying to break down my door. Pay the Tax with them." Wordlessly, every desian left through exits on the side walls which presumably lead back to the hallway, leaving Lloyd and the Empress alone.

"I am Agana, supreme commander of the desians and Empress of the world," said the Empress softly, stepping off of her throne and slowly descending the stairs. "Long have I foreseen this...encounter, Lloyd Irving. But forgive me, I do prattle on."

Seething in rage, Lloyd took a step forward yelling, "You bastard! Death is to good for you after the suffering you've caused our world!" Agana stopped near the middle of the stairs, sitting down and crossing her legs, watching Lloyd with a slight smirk.

"Death is to good for me? I have long passed beyond fear of death or any other mortal weakness. Transcending worlds, I have seen things that would drive anyone else to insanity! But I was chosen to deliver this world from its heresies, so that it may fulfill its rightful destiny!"

"So does that include slaughtering millions in genocidal campaigns? In exterminating helpless women and children while men fight and die in countless numbers on the battlefield? Is that our destiny!?" roared Lloyd, panting heavily as he tried to keep his anger in check for as long as possible. It did no good to get himself killed by brash action.

Giggling in a way that sickly perverted a child's laughter, Agana looked at Lloyd with wide eyes and a broad grin. "Yes," she declared, "but that is but a part of it! The weak must die, Lloyd, and the strong must survive! What better way is there to weed out the weak from the strong than war? When the dust settles, only the greatest will be left to steer this world's destiny!"

"I will not allow it! I will destroy you and every one of your followers, even if it costs me my life!" screamed Lloyd, charging up the stairs towards Agana. "This ends here!"

Laughing, Agana stood up and stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding being cloven in two by Lloyd's first vicious strike. As he struck low at her legs, she leapt nimbly over his seeking blade and landed next to him when his momentum carried him forward. Before he could react, she screeched loudly and backhanded him savagely in the temple.

Grunting in pain, Lloyd was flung down the stairs, landing in a heap on the floor. Groaning, he tried to stand only to receive a sharp kick to the abdomen. Hissing at the seething agony in his stomach, he rolled away from the Empress as she laughed, kicking roughly at him whenever she got close enough. Eventually, he hit the wall and had no way of escaping her savage kicks.

"The mighty Lloyd Irving," she said, kicking his stomach again. "Is this how you fall? Beaten and bloody on the floor, back to the wall with nowhere to run and hide?" Laughing, she bent down to look him in the eye. "Here you will die, and I promise you, she will suffer greatly. Yes...you know of whom I speak, don't you?"

Eyes going wide in shock, Lloyd gathered his strength and struck out at the smiling Agana, striking her hard in the temple. She stumbled back, temporarily stunned, giving Lloyd a short opportunity to catch a breather. Sitting with his back against the wall, he gulped great gouts of air and eyed the recovering Empress warily. How could she possibly be so strong? There wasn't an exsphere to be seen on her body.

Agana shrieked in rage and charged at him moments later as he tried to steady himself against the wall. Grunting with exertion, he pushed off of the wall to the floor and rolled into her legs, knocking her to the floor in a pitiful heap. Getting his second wind, Lloyd leapt to his feet and picked up his fallen swords from where he had dropped them when he had been flung from the stairs.

Turning around, he saw Agana staring at him with a vicious glare. "I swear...I will KILL YOU LLOYD IRVING!!!" Screeching, she held her arms out in front of her and cried out in pain, but also pleasure, as two large curved blades burst from her forearms, dripping blood and gore as she panted heavily.

Horrified and disgusted, Lloyd could barely react when she charged him. With almost inhuman speed, she struck at him from seemingly everywhere at once. Lloyd deflected a blow aimed at his head as he jumped back to avoid a swing aimed at his chest. Just what was this Agana, he wondered?

Not wanting to be caught against the wall like before, Lloyd went on the attack, brining his right sword down towards Agana's neck while his left warded off a blow meant to cut his left arm off at the shoulder. His drive at her neck was deflected however, and he faltered against her renewed onslaught.

Swinging wildly, Lloyd deflected a wide and fast blow from his abdomen, but failed to see the attack coming towards his head until the last second. He leaned back, barely avoiding losing most of his face and suffering a deep cut down his right cheek. "You bastard!" he cried, surging forward and cutting deep into her thigh with a swing that should have severed the leg, but her flesh seemed unwilling to give in under his blade.

She smiled and grabbed his sword blade, ripping it from her thigh and snapping the blade in half by clenching her hand. Lloyd stumbled back in shock and rage, tossing the lower half of his ruined sword at Agana's face as she advanced on him.

Batting it away, she screeched loudly and surged towards him, going low and driving both her bone blades under his guard and towards his abdomen. Lloyd tried to throw himself backward to escape, but he just wasn't fast enough.

The breath caught in his throat when her blades tore into his flesh, ripping his abdomen apart as they burst forth from his back. He coughed and sputtered as she roared, raising him overhead and letting his gushing blood fall into her mouth. Purring with feral pleasure, she threw him off her blades and licked at them hungrily, shivering as she feasted on his blood.

Lying in a slowly expanding pool of his own lifeblood, Lloyd barely managed to cling to life, watching with loathing as Agana licked her blades clean before withdrawing them back into her arms. The flesh on her arms healed up quickly, as if nothing had ever marred them. He cursed whatever hell spawned bastard magic allowed her such power.

"And so ends Lloyd Irving," she said, kneeling beside his body and smiling broadly, revealing a set of razor sharp teeth fashioned in the likeness of fangs. "Your blood is unlike anything I have ever tasted. I wonder...perhaps it is the purity of the energy within you? Nothing the Master ever gifted me with ever had such a succulence to it."

She laughed and dipped a finger into his blood, bringing it to her lips and slowly licking it off. "Maybe the others taste as well as you do? Yes!" she declared, standing up suddenly. "I am sure all of your friends must all be the same? Untainted...unmarred...still fresh." Smiling wickedly, she turned to walk away.

"Then it is settled. Though my empire may fall, I shall go to Iselia and extract one last Tax for the Master...from Colette, Genis, Raine, and the rest..." Laughing, she brought forth her grotesque bone blades again and advanced on Lloyd. "But first, I must harvest you Lloyd Irving!" Screeching inhumanly loud and high pitched, she charged him with her blades poised to plunge into his heart...

...but she never got the chance.

A massive explosion rocked the chamber, hurling Agana off her feet. In a massive shower of splinters and metal shrapnel, the doors blew open and took a large portion of the wall with them. Amidst the pieces of the door, the ragged bodies of Agana's own guards could be seen.

Through the great cloud of dust which concealed the breach, scores of desians ran with feral desperation towards the rear of the chamber. They were chased by the short bursts of accurate fire that was the mark of a UPS soldier. Lloyd smiled when he saw the desians fall to the ground, riddled by mana-bolts.

The desians turned and open fired with their own weapons, and the chamber and the hallway were turned into a massive killing field for both sides. But in the end, the soldiers of the UPS prevailed. It was with a great roar that the first of them charged through the breach, firing on full auto even as their bodies were torn apart by the desians' desperate fire.

Either ammo ran out, or the desians were swept up in a desperate fanatical frenzy as they drew their swords and charged. A UPS captain rushed to the front of the soldiers, bellowing the order to cease fire and smiling grimly.

"Men, this is it! Draw your swords! We shall carve up these desians and exterminate them like they did to our women and our children! Remember Altamira! Flanoir! Asgard! FOR THE UNITED PEOPLES! CHARGE!"

Seconds later, the chamber was transformed into a bloodbath. Man and desian ripped one another to pieces with a brutality unrivaled in any known history. Limbs and heads flew through the air and soldiers slipped on the organs of those poor fools who had been cut apart. Blood bathed the chamber crimson, and the screams rent the air like something from the darkest of nightmares.

Amidst the chaos of the final battle, Lloyd somehow stood to his feet. Crying out in pain as he stood, he weakly grabbed hold of a small vial concealed in his boot and removed the cork, pouring its contents down his throat.

Almost instantly, he felt his mind and body burn with a surreal energy that was most certainly not natural. He felt his exsphere pulsate madly and burn his skin through its keycrest. His eyes were overcome by a red mist as he turned around, seeing the desian empress standing idly on the other side of the chamber.

Her gaze pierced his tortured soul. His gaze penetrated her maniacal mind.

Panting heavily, both combatants forgot the barbaric battle raging around them and tore their way through anything that got in front of them as they rushed across the room towards each other. Both of them let out feral roars as they leapt, soaring over the heads of men and desians and colliding in midair.

They fell to the ground in a frenzy of punching, scratching, biting, and tearing. Lloyd gained the upper hand by some stroke of amazing luck and broke free of her hold, rolling away and leaping to his feat. Their weapons forgotten, Agana rose from the floor and charged Lloyd.

Side stepping her initial drive, Lloyd punched her in the side of the head and rendered her senseless for a few precious moments. Mercilessly, he drove an uppercut into her chin and threw another punch at her throat. Both connected, and she fell to her knees in agony.

Before Lloyd could capitalize however, she screeched madly and unleashed her bone blades and raked them viciously across his chest. He cried out in agony and fell to the floor, the red mist quickly vanishing from his eyes as Agana stepped around his fallen form to stand at his side.

Shaking her head, she raised her blades and prepared to cleave Lloyd in two. "For the Tax and the Master! Die Lloyd Irving!"

"NOOOOO!!!"

Coughing up a gout of blood, Lloyd blacked out as his wounds finally caught up with him. His final sensations were of warm blood splattering across his body and the sight of the empress falling to the floor.

-

Well, the changes are certainly for the better. I don't think anyone could possibly disagree with that. Review please!


	5. A Vision of Doom

How's this for fast updating, yea? For me anyway! I amaze myself sometimes. This is basically just a uh...filler chapter. Yea, I admit it. Though it is kind of crucial to the plot so...I'm not sure if that can be called filler. Well, its really short though. I don't like short chapters myself, but I'm sorry, I got lazy. Enjoy it in any case.

One last thing: In case the italics didn't give it away, none of the stuff in the chapter is physically happening per say. Its all kind of...well...mentally happening and...stuff. It makes sense if you're into 40K. Just read it anyway. It all gets explained...sort of...

Oh, and I revised the end of the last chapter so it doesn't suck. Its a lot different, so I'd check it out before I read this if I were you.

-

_The darkness closed in on him, clamping down on his mind and dragging him deeper into its folds. A leaden feeling of woe clung to his every sensation, and even the most potent strains of joy were tainted by the toxins of despair. _

_He could see the flames as they consumed countless lives. Untold billions extinguished in an instant. Like an ocean caught in a storm their souls writhed as one great mass, the screams rending through the darkness like a sharpened blade through tender flesh. _

_All around him the darkness swirled, blocking his view of those vile things he could sense around him. Violent deaths, unending woe, impossible and hellish pleasures. He sensed them and felt he would go mad. But like a holy veil, the darkness spared him. It kept his mind pure and unmarred by the endless hells which writhed and twisted around him._

_As he began to come to realize he was safe, the sensations and the images he had formed of them in his mind began to vanish. No longer could he hear the screams or sense the pain of an entire galaxy on the very doorstep of his mind. He relaxed, taking comfort in that veil of darkness and finding peace in letting it drag him away from madness and despair, and into the gentle and loving depths of his consciousness._

_He thought of old friends and times long since passed away to memory. Their journeys together, their battles together, their triumphs together, and even their failures together. It all flashed before his eyes constantly, showing him again and again. New sensations came to him, but they were not from outside. Contained within his veil of darkness, he felt the pangs of loneliness and longing claw at his wretched soul. _

_Anguish clouded his mind and he cried out, the buildup of so many emotions overflowing at last. To late then, did he realize that he had no voice with which to give sound to his pain. In horror, he felt his emotions project mentally, smashing into the veil of darkness._

_It heaved and shifted under the assault, battered but seemingly impossible to overcome. For a few moments he believed it might hold out against his brash outburst, but such hopeful thinking was equally brash. The veil was torn open in a tiny spot, just a tiny spot, and then he felt it all again._

_A galaxy consumed in war, hatred, superstition, pain, rage, and despair. Billions...no, trillions died. He knew not why, but he could feel their pain. Before he could even get a hold of himself amidst the sudden exposure to the volatile sensations, the small tear in the darkness was gripped by unseen hands and ripped open. _

_In an instant his mind was laid completely bare to everything that was, is, and ever will be. Whispers permeated his every sense and he beheld their arcane knowledge in horror. A sense of extreme vertigo gripped him and he felt himself tumbling and falling through a great expanse of open space. He screamed as he tumbled, horrified beyond belief. It deafened him and he coughed on the blood that filled his throat as his vocal cords snapped._

_Then, he stopped. There was no solid ground, nothing which could remotely hold him in place were he to stand upon it. Just open space. Feeling nauseous at his ordeal as he coughed up gouts of blood, he could barely contain himself when he beheld what was before him._

_Pure, concentrated emotion. Like the clouds he could so scantly remember in the skies of Symphonia, which he would lay in the grass and watch with a certain someone whose name he failed to recall, pure emotion floated before him. Great, pulsing and bulbous clouds drifted and darted at seemingly their own leisure, writhing in intense shows of multicolored brilliance. _

_Blue clouds of despair, purple clouds of lust, yellow clouds of loathing, and countless others. The smallest of them all, and he wept to see it, were the green clouds of peace. Yet the largest and most powerful of them all, were the red clouds. They pulsed with a malice so fine and pure, it hurt to behold them. Red clouds of rage and of war and of blood. They dominated everything else, consumed everything else. _

_Screams filled the void around him and the green shrank, and the red grew. Cries of defiance, and the green, for a time, seemed prepared to surge forth and fight back the red. But in the end, the red won all. This was again, he realized, the emotions of a galaxy laid before him. Those thoughts and feelings of untold billions concentrated and forming into these great forms, to which there was no beginning and there was no end. Ever since the birth of the first sentient being, they had been there, and so they would until the death of the last sentient being._

_Seeing this horrible truth, he wept and wondered, what fate held for Symphonia? Was it just another player in this great act, which fed the madness of the wretched Hell he now found himself in? Could they ever have a lasting peace of was the truth before him inescapable? _

_Again though, before he realized what was happening, he was flung away from the things before him and he tumbled through the void, his mind growing weary of the painful things he felt and beheld. His sanity was wearing thing, and his will was breaking. _

_What was this place, he wondered? What hellish place could possibly contain so much hate and not consume itself with its own loathing? He passed through a wispy red cloud as it consumed a small green puff as he fell. The whispers returned. _

_The Warp they called it. The Warp. Tainted beyond repair, touched by unspeakable evil, and lying parallel to everything that was whole. No man, in body or soul, could walk its uncharted and ever changing, never ending, impossible paths of bloody and daemonic malice. _

_Then how could he, he wondered? And they told him, they knew not._

_All in an instant, everything around him vanished and he found himself floating alone in the darkness of the void. A small star system was laid out before him, but only one planet, or rather what looked like two, caught his attention. Impossibly close together, he recognized them, but his mind was so maddened by the things he had learned he could not put names to them._

_One, surrounded by a purplish haze, began drifting away slowly. The other world which had been consumed by a similar haze, was now left alone. The haze dissipated slowly and the world was left looking calm and pristine. A strange feeling of content found its way into his mind when he saw this._

_But then, at the corner of his vision, great shapes were moving towards the planet. They were massive and he knew not what they were, but they were clearly moving towards the planet. For some reason, and he knew not why, this horrified him. _

_Invisible hands gripped him and turned him around. He then faced a pox on all creation, a daemon of the Warp. It was him, with needle like claws and teeth, feral looking beyond saving. It smiled, a grotesque and hideous smile, and drew close to him, changing shape before his eyes to take on the form of a young woman with blonde hair, her blue eyes impossibly deep and appealing to him, yet barbaric and revolting all the same in their daemonic nature._

_How can a human exist here? None but the hardiest and the daemonic can survive here. _

_It did not speak to him. It simply kept its eerie smile up and stared at him, peering into his mind and speaking directly to his soul. The feeling disgusted him and horrified him, and he felt an instant loathing for this thing and all of its kin rise within him._

_You detest me? Yes, you should. Our kind see your world, human. We see how it is touched by the Warp, yet goes untainted. We cannot fathom why this is. But if the rest of humanity were to find your world? A world where untainted energy of the Warp is in abundance? Why, our very existence would be threatened. The very Eye itself may fall! _

_He tried to push it away from him, ignore its words and run. But its grip on him remained solid and he could not escape, no matter how hard he tried. _

_Poor little human... Allow me to show you...many things..._

_His screams of anguish rippled through the warp, obliterating all in their path. Even the red clouds of rage dissipated before them. Such was the suffering of Lloyd Irving in the Warp. But to what was to come for the world of Symphonia, nothing could compare._

_-_

Like I said, a short little chapter. I was going to make it longer, but I kind of lost my way with what I wanted to write after that and I don't want to not update for like a month so, there's what you all got for now. Anyway, I'll try and update soon as usual. Review please!


	6. Tainted Reality

_Well I do apologize for taking so long to update. Shit just kept coming up is all and...ok I lie, I'm just really lazy. I deserve to be yelled at! Go on! Do it! But...maybe this chapter will make up for the long wait? I hope so... Read, review, and most of all enjoy! By the way, this chapter has a lot of gore in it, just so you're warned._

-

A citadel stood alone in the middle of a vast and barren plain. Dust billowed across the surface in great clouds, blown by the harsh winds, which had no obstacles to break them. Except the citadel.

Made of glistening black metal, the winds howled as they broke against it, as if screaming in rage at the great object that stuck so strangely out of the otherwise untouched flats all around. There was no sign of any entrance or exit. It was as if it was completely sealed up, a solid and foreboding spire that stuck out of the earth oddly.

A new sound suddenly came to join the howling of the wind. It came from the spire, a single, high pitched wailing, painful and hoarse. There was a human quality to it; a raw, barely detectable trace of humanity within the screams.

But there was also something else; a raw and feral roar of contempt, rising and consuming the sound. Soon, nothing was left of the humanity in the sound and only a great booming laughter echoed across the plains.

The earth shook and the winds ceased. Time around the spire seemed to stand still. The natural order and vision of the tower began to twist and writhe against the normal confines of reality, so that it just appeared _wrong_.

The wailing was taken up again, this time by not one single source, but by hundreds, thousands...millions.

Billions.

They grew and grew in number until the very ground began to shatter under the torrential assault of sounds. Then, in an instant, every ended. The wailing died, seeming to fall into itself and leaving a deep and sudden silence in its wake.

An enormous eruption of energies blew the citadel to pieces, and the great laughter returned to reverberate through the air. Wherever a piece of the tower landed, a great burst of pulsing and malevolent energies shot hundreds of meters into the air before crashing down and spreading a glowing taint of unnatural colors across the barren ground.

The wailing returned, stronger than ever before, and from the tainted earth, the wicked claws of countless foul creatures burst forth. Shaking violently, the ground itself seemed revolted at the abominations being birthed from its befouled depths. The sky began to turn, the polluted clouds of sulfur and carbon monoxide giving way for a barbaric mirror image of the earth.

Tainted veins of dark energies pooled through the sky as it quickly turned a dark, brownish red. The color of blood.

Thunder rumbled and purple lightning crashed against the writhing earth. The blood clouds opened up in a torrential downpour. Like a sickly parody of natural rain, blood poured from the skies like an open wound.

The cries of the abominations grew louder as they claimed sustenance from the shower of life sustaining liquid. Fully formed monsters clawed their way out and stood on two feet. Or four.

Or more.

There was no limit to the horror the abominations might inspire, if looked upon by an ordinary man. They obeyed no normal laws of nature. No laws of physics held them back. They howled in delight as the blood flowed through them, making them stronger.

From the rubble exactly where the dark citadel had once stood, a lone figure wrapped in black robes arose from the smoke and began walking across the tainted plains. Abominations stopped and watched them pass, hissing and growling. Slowly, the monsters began to follow the figure.

For what seemed like ages the figure walked across the plains, the slavering creatures behind it snarling and snapping at each other as they followed it slowly. Finally, the plains ended as the figure and its massive following of monsters clambered over the top of the large dunes which bordered the edge of the flatlands.

The figure stopped, looked out at the sight before it and sighing loudly with anticipation. A great city, stretching into the distance further than any mortal eye could see, sprawled out before them.

Great towers and sky scrapers rose high into the air amidst tiny and wretched hab-units. Enormous manufactorum facilities belched great gouts of toxic fumes into the air with little care for how the populace of the city would be affected by the chemicals.

There was no beauty to the city. Just raw, toxic filth that pumped out incredible amounts of weapons and munitions every day. Weak, crude mortal instruments of war.

"Pathetic," said the figure, lowering its hood to reveal long and greasy black hair and features as sharp as a knife point. The man's eyes, black as the void, looked over the squalid city with contempt.

Grinning darkly, he turned to face the monsters behind him, most of whom snarled at the man wickedly. One, a behemoth compared to the rest, stepped forward. The ground shook under the stomp of its cloven feet. Other abominations cowered at the sight of its vicious horns and gaping maw. Its leathery wings extended and flexed powerfully, and it snorted at the tiny man standing before it, toying with the massive battleaxe in one hand and the long barbed whip in the other.

The Bloodthirster scuffed the barren earth menacingly with its hooves, snorting and shaking its head in a jumble of chains and barbaric idols. As it eyed the man in front of it, it almost seemed to laugh with contempt for the weak body he possessed.

"Daemons…" said the man with a hiss. "…of the dark gods." He turned around, ignoring the massive creature behind him. Smiling, he pointed towards the city and let ancient and wicked tongue spill forth from his lips.

"Iacthai! Joriccma! Norjcii kicjek fuddjaor! Ficklparerj moiznrerat neratilcak cnerey!"

With a roar, the great daemon host surged towards the city, pushing past the man without hesitation. Even the great Bloodthirster, at first doubtful, screeched and took to the skies on its great wings.

Cackling manically, the man sat down on the ground as the daemons smashed into the outskirts of the city, tearing apart human and building alike. He chuckled to himself as the taint from the flatlands began spreading over the crest of the hill. It passed under him and he felt himself shudder as he watched the carnage, touched by a power forever beyond his understanding.

A cold hand grabbed his shoulder, and he turned around quickly. He stared into the emotionless white orbs of the Master. The man gulped, taking a step back in shock. The white orbs, shining forth from the seemingly endless depths of the Master's crimson cowl, eyed him with distaste.

"Ratatosk...voheminaio tichairu!" the Master hissed, grabbing the man by the throat and lifting him into the air. The long sleeve of his crimson robe rolled back and his bony, clawed hands pulsed and writhed as blood flowed through them in decayed veins. His heart rumbled like thunder with each labored beat as it strained against the will of fell energies to give out and die.

"M-my lord!" the man stammered, writhing against the Master's grip. He gurgled helplessly as the Master dug in his claws slightly.

Just millimeters from penetrating his servant's jugular, the Master suddenly through the man to the ground and looked down upon him with contempt. Coughing hoarsely as he massaged his aching throat, the man looked up weakly at the Master.

"What has happened, lord?"

"Miackli jcoro! Jeclifkc icacolr ecoalji cakceo!" the Master roared. The man cringed, holding hands to his ears as the fell words of the warp spoken so strongly made them bleed.

"They defeated us? You cant be serious! We had every advantage, my lord!" The man climbed to his feet weakly and shook his head. "No, no, no...they shouldn't have been able to..." He closed his eyes in thought, the blood oozing from his neck and ears completely forgotten. "Unless...the boy! Damn it all!"

"Geeactury uvrituy vicrufer!" hissed the Master, raising his horrid hand as if to strike his hapless servant.

"I'm sorry, lord! There's nothing I can do! I never thought he could be so strong as to strike down a servant personally granted your power! But damn it all, that empress turned out to be a useless pawn... A useless one while she lived, yes, but..."

A series of loud explosions erupted from the city. The bright flashes illuminated the entire region brightly as thousands of tons of munitions cooked off inside the factories and storehouses. The wailing of the desperate and dying populace drifted up to the top of the hill.

"Miguali!" the Master laughed as he observed the city burn, his voice deep and wicked. "Benckoal yuiplc zaduch beaderty," he said, turning to his dumbstruck servant.

"W-what!? Lord! Are you sure!?"

"Maijauc liakc icajvki buaghei meaio. Kiallacka bienak ckagianeg!"

The light of a fresh batch of explosions illuminated the interior of the Master's hood for a brief second. A lower jaw dominated by a ludicrous amount of overlapping needle like yellow teeth glared back at the cowering man, instantly swaying his opinion in favor of the Master.

"Yes...you are right, lord. Those damned knights will be here soon. Its time we left and began the final part of our plan..." He looked towards the dying city and laughed as one of the tall skyscrapers toppled over, smashing into and destroying a district of smaller hab-units. "Its only taken several millennia to formulate! Ah, to be a part of such a grand scheme of the Dark Gods as it nears completion..."

He grinned wickedly and turned to the Master. "Alright, lord. We can leave whenever you're ready. The knights will never know we were here, and the daemons will keep them busy for a long while even if they did find out..."

"Gyuvtiw maledictum!"

-

_Their eyes..._

Blinding light shot through the darkness that blotted out his vision.

_...watching me..._

Pain lanced through his body like a thousand fiery needles.

_...hungering for me..._

Nausea swelled in his gut and his limbs began to twitch like mad.

_...coming for me..._

He felt pressure on his limbs; others, trying to restrain him. He began to laugh.

_...taking me. How can I escape? The fate of worlds hangs by a thread... Help me... Make it stop!_

**No.**

_Let me go... I cant take it... the pain... the...madness...! _

**You are mine. You will suffer...and they will die. They will all die.**

With a roar of insane vigor, Lloyd threw off the restraining hands of the doctors and nurses surrounding his bed. He sat up and looked around the room through eyes that shimmered with a glint of infinite hatred and madness.

"M-Mr. Irving!" stuttered one of the doctors as he stood and steadied himself against the far wall of the sparse, white room. "We are only trying to help! Please...your wounds, you must rest or they shall not heal right. There is only so much we can do for you as it is..."

Laughing, Lloyd looked down at the simple white gown they had him garbed in. With a vile sneer, he tore it off and cast it aside as he jumped from the bed and landed on the floor. The medical staff cowered as he radiated what seemed to be pure hatred, raw and feral. His muscles bulged and writhed with impossible energy as he stood, completely naked and breathing heavily.

"Pathetic fools!" he roared in a cold, icy voice that was not his own. "You dare to order me around? I will show you who you are dealing with..."

Striding over to the cowering physician, he grabbed the man by the throat and hoisted him into the air. The man struggled for a few brief moments before Lloyd, laughing, crushed his neck like a ripe fruit.

Dropping the corpse as it spurted bright, arterial blood from the remnants of its neck, Lloyd turned around and smashed his gore covered hand into the chest of another physician who had been sneaking up behind him. The man fell backwards and cried out painfully as Lloyd followed up with a kick to his stomach.

Leaving him twitching on the ground, Lloyd turned towards the solitary door in the room. The two nurses and one remaining doctor stood in front of it, barring his path.

"Step aside," he said, grinning wickedly at them as he licked at the blood that covered his right hand.

They shook their heads slowly, their faces determined as they braced themselves for his fury. Rolling his eyes, he yawned as all three were tossed away from the door violently by unseen forces. Lloyd walked towards the door, not sparing their moaning forms a glance. It blew off its hinges and into the opposite side of a long, bare hallway.

Smashed against the wall behind it was a heavily laden food cart, its contents ruined. A mad grin stretching from ear to ear, Lloyd stepped out into the hall.

Turning to his left, he saw a plump nurse several heads shorter than him frozen in complete shock, her hands held out in front of her and trembling. Slowly, she glanced from Lloyd to the door, behind which was the food cart she had been pushing. Without a sound, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted, falling backwards with a dull thud.

Shaking his head in disgust, he stepped over her still form and moved slowly down the hallway, passing door after door, all of which led to a white room exactly like the one he had been in. His mind raced with countless thoughts as he reached the end and wrenched open the elevator doors. Something in the doorframe sizzled and belched black smoke over him, the systems of the doors shorting out as they were forced open against their automatic locks.

Such was the storm raging in his mind he could not make sense of anything as he gazed into the darkness of the shaft. It actually hurt to think. Giving up on trying, he leapt onto the cable and slid down the elevator shaft, having no real idea where he was going or why. The only thing he could think of was mindless drivel. And blood.

He could feel his heart slamming against his chest with every tremendous beat. A blood thirst was upon him, a red mist clouded his eyes. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and his mind was filled with images of endless slaughter and immeasurable quantities of gore.

Letting out a wicked laugh which echoed throughout the elevator shaft, Lloyd felt his hands begin to bleed as the cable began tearing the skin off layer by layer as he slid ever downwards. Smiling, he leapt off and smashed into another set of elevator doors, going right through them without any effort.

Resting on his knees, he panted heavily and stared at his hands. The palms were torn open and gushing blood, but the pain did not occur to him. All he saw was the red liquid as it bubbled out of his body and oozed onto the floor. He felt his heart beat even faster and mad voices began screaming in his head. They wanted more blood, for him to spill more blood. He grinned. He would.

Balling his hands into fists, he looked up slowly. He was on the main floor of the building, a large lobby filled with a crowd of people. They were all looking at him in shock, some with revulsion. A duo of security guards came over to him, pulling compact mana-pistols from holsters on their side and pointing them warily at Lloyd.

"One of the crazies from the mental ward must have escaped," one muttered as he cocked his weapon.

The other one chuckled and nodded in agreement as he looked down at his weapon for a brief moment to check it was loaded. In that split second, Lloyd crossed the five meters separating them and connected his fist with the guards chest. The sound of crunching bone echoed throughout the lobby as his ribcage was completely destroyed.

The second guard barely had time to cry out in shock as he turned to shoot Lloyd through the head but instead found himself flung through the air as Lloyd smashed his face in, literally. His skull was broken and his features were either pushed grotesquely inside it or ripped off by the force of the blow.

Someone screamed and the crowd dissolved into mass hysteria as they forced their way towards the exits. Sighing in satisfaction, Lloyd watched them go as his mind worked out lurid ways that he might kill each and every one of them. They were like pathetic little vermin, he thought. In need of extermination.

Laughing madly, he walked towards the doors slowly, each step burning into the floor a blood red mark which pulsed with dark energies. Black smoke rose from them in thin wisps as they spread out to claim more of the once sterile white floor. As he reached the doors, thin trickles of blood were coming out of where the ceiling met the wall on all sides of the lobby.

He noted with boredom that someone had attempted to block the revolving doors with a pile of benches and chairs from the plaza outside. Chuckling at the futility of their efforts, he sprinted towards the doors and through himself at them spread-eagle. The air was filled with the sound of snapping steel, shattering glass, and splintering wood as he smashed his way through.

Amidst an enormous field of debris in the plaza outside, he fell to one knee and gasped for breath, his body shredded in scores of places by glass. He heard footsteps rushing towards him and looked up to see eight soldiers in the black armor of the palace guard rushing towards him, their mana-stubbers trained on him. His mouth, gushing blood, twisted into a smile and he stood to his feet, sighing with mad satisfaction as he felt his flesh tear in countless places against the glass imbedded in his body.

Some of the soldiers stopped outright at the disturbing sight. The rest slowed their advance and lowered their weapons in hesitation as Lloyd pulled a large piece of glass out of his abdomen. He threw his head back and began laughing madly as the sky overhead thundered. Flashes of lightning streaked across the sky as the rain began to fall, drenching his bloodstained body and washing it clean. The plaza was covered in torrents of blood, and the soldiers and civilians watching a ways back stood in utter disbelief that he was still alive after losing so much blood.

Taking a step forward, Lloyd saw the soldiers snap back to reality almost in unison. He smiled as they raised their guns. He blinked in confusion for a brief moment when their helmets seemed to fade away as if they had never existed, though his smile did not fade when he saw who they were. Zelos, Genis, Collette, Sheena, Raine, Regal, Presea, and Kratos. They wore expressions of deep anguish and despite the rain Lloyd saw tears in their eyes, some more than others; Kratos was grim and stoic as always, and Colette's whole body was shaking with grief.

Genis lowered his mana-stubber and reached towards Lloyd with a trembling hand, his lips forming words which he seemed unable to give voice to. Snorting in disgust when he felt the waves of sadness that the young half-elf exuded, Lloyd batted his hand away and rushed forward, taking the piece of glass still clutched in his hand and driving it through his sternum. Hacking up a gout of blood, Genis collapsed, the rain washing the blood away as quickly as it gushed from his wound.

The others recoiled in shock and turned their weapons on him and fired, but Lloyd was to fast for them. The moment Genis had fallen towards the ground Lloyd had relieved him of his mana-stubber and spun clear of the first spray of mana-bolts. Before any of them realized what had happened, he raised Genis' gun towards them one handed and pulled the trigger.

A spray of mana-bolts hit Zelos, Raine, and Regal with supersonic force, shredding their armor like paper and exploding their bodies in a burst of flesh, blood, and bone. Their wasted corpses fell to the ground, pockmarked with the spaces where Lloyd's shots blew out chunks of them.

Collette screamed and fell to her knees while Presea and Kratos rushed forward, dodging around Lloyd's erratic fire. They reached him at the same time and leapt at him, bayonets poised for the kill. Screaming with insane rage, Lloyd held his hand out towards Presea as if to stop her, and that's exactly what happened. Her eyes went wide as her body was suddenly peeled apart by unnatural forces and blown backwards in thousands of bloody pieces which fell to the ground like hail.

With Presea's sacrifice however, Kratos managed to get close enough to drive his bayonet into Lloyd's inner shoulder, just below the collar bone. Screeching with rage, Lloyd threw Kratos off him as they fell to the ground. Lloyd fired blindly at Kratos and blew off his left leg at the lower thigh, though Kratos remained as composed as ever and barely flinched.

"SCREAM DAMN YOU!" roared Lloyd as he struggled to his feet, trying to draw strength from the pain in his shoulder.

He stumbled towards Kratos and kicked his gun away, pointing Genis' at his head. Laughing, he was about to pull the trigger when something hit him hard from behind and knocked him to the ground. He heard a loud sob from behind him and seethed with rage, rolling over and hopping to his feet to face a deeply distressed Collette, her blonde hair and fair face matted with blood.

She cried out to him pleadingly, but he was completely oblivious to it as he advanced on her. She backed away from him, crying and calling out to him, but to no avail. She tripped over Raine's corpse and fell backwards to the blood soaked ground, sobbing wretchedly.

"Lloyd!" she pleaded. "Wake up! Please, wake up! You... you cant have forgotten me! After all we shared, Lloyd, after all we promised..."

For a brief moment, Lloyd almost seemed to hesitate, but then threw his head back and laughed again. Smiling wickedly, he pointed Genis' mana-stubber at her and racked the slide for effect. He cocked his head to one side and licked his lips as he pulled the trigger, filling Collette's head full of mana-bolts and blowing her skull to a shredded mass of bloody bone and pieces of brain. He laughed as her body twitched weakly before going completely still.

Turning around to finish off Kratos, Lloyd found the Seraphim charging at him through the air, his brilliant blue wings glistening in the rain. Before Lloyd could raise his mana-stubber to fire, Kratos was on him, wrenching the weapon out of his hands and smashing him across the jaw with its stock. Reeling, Lloyd spun backwards and landed face down on Collette's corpse.

"Lloyd, you fool! Look at this! At this carnage!"

He looked around himself slowly at the bodies. The friends whom he had reduced to wretched corpses. Something in his mind almost seemed to snap in place as Lloyd felt a searing pain in his back.

"This cannot be reality, my son. I will not allow it. Wake up! Fight the daemon! You must be ready, for what is to come is a fight against the very fabric of evil. The very air seethes at the evil that is coming, Lloyd. Make yourselves ready, for this will be the final test for Symphonia."

Lloyd screamed in agony as Kratos impaled him on his sword channeled energy through it and into his body. Something in his mind screeched in even greater agony and it felt like a presence was clawing at his very being as it was dragged away from his very soul. In an instant, everything was clear again. He looked around at the broken bodies and screamed and wept. Kratos was at his side quickly, and Lloyd looked up weakly to face him.

"What...what have I done!?" he yelled at Kratos.

"Remember well what you saw here, what you felt here. When you wake up, it will make all the difference. Do not let this be the way things come to pass." He rose into the air several feet, Lloyd watching him through tear-filled eyes. "My son... Do not despair. Help will come...from the most unexpected of places."

With his final words said, Kratos dissolve into thin air, along with the bodies of the others, the plaza, the rain, and the city around him. It all vanished without a trace, leaving him to drift alone in an empty white plane.

Before him, a dark cloud appeared, pulsing with dark energy and sparking violently, almost angrily, at him. It dissipated slowly, and a great weight lifted from his mind and body. A sense of liberation and freedom like he had never known enveloped him.

He shut his eyes slowly and sighed with contentment at the feeling. A warm sensation filled him suddenly and he felt a warm hand touch his forehead. Someone with small hands began shaking him weakly. He felt the presence of pain and anguish around him growing stronger with every passing moment.

He sighed and, ever so slowly, Lloyd Irving opened his eyes and woke up.

-

_Haha that's right, it was all a dream. If I had put it all in italics it would have been to obvious, and it wasn't so much a dream as it was a seperate reality within Lloyd's head. Still sounds like a dream, eh? Well, you'll understand soon enough. 40K devotees, you can guess what happened to Lloyd I'm sure. Anyway, I'll try to update soon, unlike last time... Reviews appreciated! (they make me write faster)_


	7. Blades of the Emperor

AN: Well, I'm sorry for the massive delay, but here it is at last. This chapter starts off slow, but the second half is rather action packed, I assure you. In any case, this is also the first chapter where the Warhammer 40K themes start to show up, and in a very big way. And I promise, you do not have to be a fan or even know anything about Warhammer to like it. It doesn't go into an insane amount of depth, so anyone canfollow it. Besides, its awesome and hardcore sci-fi/fantasy action from the forty-first millennium. ENJOY IT PEOPLE!

-

Lloyd Irving gasped as a sudden pain lanced through his head. He gritted his teeth as it felt like a hot drill was being driven into his brain. Trying to scream, he instead let out a pitiful whimper as his eyes began to water. There was a ringing in his ears which was growing to a screech, and he could feel every beat of his heart like a boulder against his chest.

Then, suddenly, it all stopped.

He no longer felt his heart beating out of control, the ringing was gone, and the pain in his head was gone. Breathing out slowly in relief, he almost felt good enough to open his eyes. However, despite his best efforts, they refused to open.

Annoyed, he instead tried to move, but he couldn't move anything. Panicking, he felt his toes and feet wiggle and relaxed a little, relieved that he wasn't paralyzed. Upon trying hard to lift his right arm minute or so later, searing agony coursed down its length and his eyes burst open in a flash as he cried out.

When he tried to sit up out of reflex, he felt something pinning him down as he clenched his eyes shut and ground his teeth against the pain that throbbed in his abdomen. He tried to fight it at first, but then flashes of a room in white entered his mind. Doctors and nurses, their white robes covered in blood. The memory of the hellish dream made him freeze, and his whole body relaxed as he was pushed back down gently. He was crying more out of fear of the dream than the pain in his body when he heard the gentle and familiar voice.

"Lloyd, calm down. You're safe now, everything's going to be ok. Just stay calm and don't try to move."

His lips tried to twist into a weak smile as his eyes fluttered open weakly. Sure enough, the female half-elf was busy reapplying bandages to his right arm. Bandages he had obviously torn in his sudden movements.

_She hasn't changed a bit, _he thought to himself as he watched her wearily through half open eyes.

And indeed she hadn't. The same white hair, fair skin, and pretty face that had won over so many young men to her 'fan club' in years past. A tighter, white dress, not unlike what the nurses in his dream had worn, adorned her body now instead of her orange dress, and it was covered in many places with blood stains. His blood, he realized, when he shifted his eyes to look towards his abdomen and he saw the terrible gash in it barely hidden by more shredded bandages.

"Pro...fessor?" he whispered weakly.

Jumping slightly in shock, Raine turned to look at him, her eyes wide and her jaw agape. An expression of joy appeared on her face instantly, and though the normally calm woman tried to hide it, her excitement stood out like a sore thumb.

"Lloyd! You're awake! Thank heavens! We thought you would never wake up, you're wounds were so severe!" Her eyes were starting to water slightly as she gazed at him happily.

"Yes..." He smiled weakly at her, wincing slightly at the pain in his arm. "Its nice to...see you too...Professor."

She laughed lightly and shook her head, returning to reapplying his bandages. "Aren't you happy to see me?" she asked.

"What…makes you think I'm not...Professor?" he replied.

"Its been eight years Lloyd. That's a very long time." She looked up at him briefly as she put the finishing touches on his bandages. "Most people would be overjoyed to see a friend again, but you barely seem pleased to be home at all. You're not very enthused, in any case."

As he gazed almost stupidly around the room through half-open and weary eyes, the only word he at first heard was 'home'. This was home, he thought? He couldn't remember for sure what home had been like. But now it was a plain room, with simple wood paneling on the floor and the ceiling. Sunlight streamed through a long window to his left, and a door right across the room from him was slightly ajar. He wearily realized this was only a single room which made up 'home'.

"You make it sound like I don't miss people when they're gone, Raine." he said quietly, processing the rest of her words while noting the beautiful mahogany desk by the window and the bouquet of pink and white flowers in a small white vase on its surface.

He remembered those flowers, somehow, from the long past days of his youth, but he couldn't recall from where. Past all the smoke, blood, and fire in his mind, he couldn't see anything anymore. But something about them made his eyes water, so he looked away quickly and towards Raine again, who was slightly surprised he had actually referred to her by her first name and not 'Professor'.

"I didn't mean it like that, Lloyd. I just thought you would be overcome with joy now that you were finally home, is all…" She trailed off quietly and looked towards the ground almost sadly.

Hardly able to follow the word's she spoke at first, he had a sudden vision of a trench full of dead bodies as his mind hung precariously between life and the gaping abyss of deep slumber. Women and children, he saw in that trench. He watched helplessly as earthmovers covered them with tons of dirt. They would never be seen again. Coming back to reality, he shook his head, looked at Raine, heard her words again in his head, and felt something in his mind snap.

"Damn it Professor, I'm half dead! I feel like I was shredded to pieces and then ran over by an earthmover!" he spat, his eyes narrowed and dark. "So forgive me if I'm not exactly exuding good will and happiness!"

Raine took several steps back in shock, completely taken by surprise by Lloyd's sudden and uncharacteristic outburst. She pulled a chair up from against the wall and sat down shakily, looking at Lloyd with a concerned expression.

"I'm sorry, Lloyd. I…guess I never expected you to…"

"Change?" he asked, already feeling slightly ashamed for his outburst as he battled with conflicting feelings in his mind.

"Yes…" She moved the chair up and put a hand on his shoulder gently, sighing deeply. "Lloyd, what happened to you in those eight years? And Zelos too. Was it as terrible as the rumors would have us believe?"

Lloyd frowned and sighed deeply.

"Do you really want to know?"

Raine nodded.

"Well, what can I say," he began. "We were at war you know, for all of those eight years. I never knew time could pass so slowly until then. We all thought it would be easy, but somehow the desians were stronger than we could ever have imagined, stronger even than they were before Cruxis fell."

He brought his left hand to his face and looked over it sadly, noting the countless little scars and the few larger ones. Looking back at Raine, his eyes were filled with fury as he remembered the battles that had given him those scars and Raine withdrew her hand from his shoulder as she flinched under the suddenly hard gaze. Seeing such pain and anger in the eyes of one she remembered only as being sweet, innocent and noble was terribly unnerving.

"I fought across the lands of Symphonia," he continued, "alongside Zelos and the armies of the United Peoples to stop the desians from taking over the world and making a mockery of life once again with the exospheres, which they began to make again anyway." He paused and looked down at his own exsphere for a moment, sighing sadly. "The fighting was terrible, and I quickly found the fights from before, where the eight of us only took injuries and suffered no losses, were nothing to the true battlefield which I then stood on. Men, dying in their thousands day after day, cut down faster and more brutally as the ancient weapons of magi-technology returned. Many might as well have just dug their own graves and cast themselves in."

"I saw things which no one should ever have to see. I saw the darkest side so-called 'civilization' had to offer. What exactly is civilized about the way we butchered each other, back and forth across the world in a bid to wipe one another out, Professor?" He paused and sighed deeply, his hand shaking. "When the desians took to killing our civilians, we did the same to theirs." He paused, looking away slowly towards the window, his body shaking with anger. "Do you know how many women and children I put to death with my own hand Professor, simply because they belonged to the enemy nation which had done the same thing? I knew two wrongs don't make a right but...none of us could stop it. I went against everything I had ever stood for... War makes savages of us all!" He clenched his fists as something he said before echoed through his mind.

_So does that include slaughtering millions in genocidal campaigns? In exterminating helpless women and children while men fight and die in countless numbers on the battlefield? Is that our destiny!?_

"You stupid hypocrite," he said to himself angrily.

"I…I had no idea, Lloyd," she stammered, shocked by what she was hearing.

"Of course you wouldn't," he spat. "Zelos wouldn't tell you. He shut himself off eventually, barely feeling what he was doing anymore. I often found myself wondering how he willed himself to keep living. He was a walking shell, in constant denial about what he had done, was doing, and would be doing. He'll likely still deny it to try and forget the atrocities. The war was one of genocide, despite what the King preached to the public. We were on a crusade to wipe out all the desians, so they could never threaten the world again once we beat them."

Lloyd went silent for a minute, closing his eyes and breathing deeply and grinding his teeth as he pushed away terrible memories. When he opened them, he saw the door creaking open slowly. Regal entered silently, his face showing the first signs of aging. Lloyd was surprised to see it, but Regal was quickly becoming an old man. As he regarded Lloyd with a bit of surprise, a small smile crept onto his face and he said nothing while he pulled up a seat next to Raine.

Lloyd laughed lightly as Regal took his seat, a feeling of indescribable anxiousness the likes of which he had forgot existed.

"Let me guess…everyone is here? I'm...really home, Professor?"

"Yes, Lloyd. You're home, in Iselia, as I said before."

"Then this is..." Lloyd looked around the room slowly. "...Colette's house?"

He felt his heart beat faster as he mentioned her name.

_The mighty Lloyd Irving, is this how you fall? Beaten and bloody on the floor, back to the wall with nowhere to run and hide? _

He shook his head, trying to stop the words as they ran through his mind, but to no avail.

_Here you will die, and I promise you, she will suffer greatly. Yes...you know of whom I speak, don't you?_

"You…wish to see her Lloyd, do you not?" asked Regal when he noticed the distant look on Lloyd's face.

Suddenly awoken from his thoughts, but thankful, Lloyd looked towards Regal. He at first looked surprised to see him, as if he had just noticed him sitting there. Then, he caught on to what he said and felt his face go slightly red. He would have laughed at how strange the feeling was after forgetting about it completely for so long but for the countless thoughts racing through his mind.

"Ah! Regal! You… I… yes," he sighed, "you have no idea how much I do."

"I thought as much," smiled Regal, who then added sadly, "But, you cant right now, I'm afraid. Its only about eight' clock in the morning, so she will not be awake for a while yet."

"Why? She was always up early before."

"Because she stayed up into the late hours of the night these past few weeks looking after you through your painful recovery, which you've only just begun to make. She gets very little sleep as a result, and its really been taking a toll on her," explained Raine.

Letting that information sink in, he looked back and forth at their faces slowly. He noted how absolutely exhausted each of them looked. Lloyd looked down and clenched his one working hand in frustration.

"I fought so hard to keep her and the rest of you from suffering, and now it seems all of you are because of me anyway! Damn it," he seethed.

"Its not your fault, Lloyd…" said Raine soothingly. "Its our choice to look after you, after all. Just as you willingly went to war to protect what you believed in, we will all willingly care for you in your time of need, because we all believe in you."

Lloyd seemed unconvinced regarding Collette however. "But I'm sick of her constantly putting everyone before herself! She acts as if she needs to shoulder everyone's burdens and sorrows… Didn't we fight to stop that, ten years ago?"

"You forget Lloyd," said Regal as he crossed his arms. "Its in her very nature to be that way. Like it or not, that's part of who she is, and its actually not a bad quality, so long as she has people around her to make sure she isn't taken advantage of."

Lloyd furrowed his brow and sighed. He leaned back to rest his head on the pillows and rubbed his aching forehead. Opening one eye, he looked towards them both and nodded his head slowly.

"I...need some time to think, I guess... I'll be fine once I get some more rest, I'm sure. Perhaps I only feel this way because I feel like I was crushed by an earthmover," he commented with a chuckle.

"Alright Lloyd," said Raine with a smile. "If you need anything, just yell. And if you cant yell, use this bell."

Hesitantly, he accepted the small bell she handed to him and looked over it. He tried not to laugh as he set it aside and shook his head.

"I think I'll just yell, Professor. I'm not that weak."

Nodding and smiling in understanding, Raine and Regal left the room, shutting the door tightly behind them. Lloyd listened intently to their footsteps as they moved down the hallway until they vanished. Suddenly alone with his thoughts, Lloyd was mercilessly spared a good deal of torment when he quickly fell asleep, his mind filled with thoughts of home, friends, times long past, and most of all, Collette.

Even so, he tossed and turned in his sleep, sub-consciously knowing full well that there was something, somewhere, terribly wrong.

_-_

The world screamed, its entire surface a writhing mass of pure evil. Dark spires lanced out of the bloody earth, screeching as lightning arced off of them and through the air. Black clouds so dark they sucked away all light slowly formed in the sky over the entire world. Grotesque and terrible things stalked the fleshy plains as the lights went out, clicking and hissing and snarling as they fed on the evil energy which bled from the air.

Burnt out husks which once were large and mighty cities and hives burned in magic, multi-colored flame. Twitching, fleshy growths sprouted from cracks in the rockcrete, slowly overtaking the constructions of man as the cursed ground devoured it. Howling, the earth pulsed as moats of blood split across its surface in intricate networks. They entwined and tangled amongst one another across the planet, the blood oozing through them each time the earth growled and shook. A great noise like a mighty drum made a steady beat from somewhere in the depths, the noise thundering across the world.

A heart beat beneath the surface. The world was alive with fell energies of another realm. It screamed as the grotesque manifestations of darkness clawed and gnashed as they drank deep of its power. Withering and dying, the world whimpered and bled out across itself. Entire oceans of tainted blood and gore flooded the flatlands.

The cackle of daemons as they drank of the living world drifted into the sky, where the black clouds devoured the madness as it tried to rise into the sky. They grew darker and larger, beating with pulses of their own. Like a million drums they thundered a terrible and painful rhythm down onto the world. Lesser daemons screeched as the clouds dissolved them with the power of their drumming.

From the cities, mad laughter and chanting, to match the beat of the terrible drums, echoed across the vast blood seas and flesh plains. Daemons flocked to the source, slavering and howling in delight. It was the Master. The Master was leaving, and the Fell One's unholy plot would finally be realized.

Standing on a massive slab of torn up rockcrete that was crushing a statue of the Emperor and which served as a makeshift dais in the main plaza of the once proud capitol, the Master and his servant, known only as Derleth, watched as planetary inhabitants driven mad by the chatter of the warp furiously drew their blood and painted with it. Horrible icons of Chaos which would drive a sane man to the brink of snapping his own neck in madness made their eyes weep blood as they continued to paint them furiously. Some collapsed, having given all their blood to the task. Their bodies bubbled from corruption and were dragged off and devoured by the lesser daemons.

Greater daemons walked up around the dais, their great bulk and terrible power exuding a terrible stench of the warp that made Derleth shuffle in annoyance. The Master looked upon them and smiled, his rotten and clawed hands shaking as he drew in the excess power which fell from their horrid forms. They growled and looked upon him with something almost akin to reverence, hissing as they felt his immortal energies play across their own immortal daemon forms in a quest for more sustenance from their excess magics.

The last insane man died and was cast from the dais. The painting in blood, an eight pointed star and thousands of endless and intricate runes and symbols, stared up towards the dark clouds. Darkness swirled around the dais, forcing even the greater daemons to back off. In a haze of furious warp energy, the painting came alive, burning furiously with untold powers.

Carefully, gently, the Master stroked the iris of the solitary eye of Chaos in the center of the star and it blinked. The dais ripped apart with a thunderous crack. The two separate halves pooled energy between them, and a massive orb of writhing and spinning warp appeared as the air around the dais began phasing between dimensions. Laughing, the Master and Derleth channeled their energy into the suspended warp and were pulled into it, along with the dais as it was broken into countless pieces and sucked into oblivion.

The daemons all across the world howled. They were pleased, the Fell One's plans would succeed and all the galaxy would burn under the fires of daemonic infliction. Those greater daemons chosen by the Master himself instinctively turned to guard the gate, while the rest left to torment the wailing world and to herd the lesser daemons.

Brilliant lights began to shine through the dark clouds from above, lancing through them and into the bleeding earth. Daemons screeched and the world heaved under the gaze of the lights. The greater daemons roared and bellowed at the heavens, knowing full well what was coming. They were to late, of course, to put the Master in any immediate danger, but the gate was still open. So long as it remained so, the Master and all that had been strived for could fail. A million daemons howled and charged across the plains. They would not allow it.

-

Like hundreds of brilliant shooting stars, the drop pods fell. The clouds, the very atmosphere, seethed at their presence. They were like beacons of purity and order, the one last source of light amongst the darkness on the condemned world.

The screech of daemons echoed throughout the system as the pods began to smash into the fleshy and bloody earth. Their sides fell open, and the cries of dying daemons grew louder as the mighty warriors of the Imperium stormed out to deliver their Emperor's Justice.

Three hundred. Three hundred of them, the Emperor's finest, against the endless hordes of daemons. They struck the daemon horde head on and scattered them like sand in the wind. Wielding mighty weapons that sparkled with the psychic energy of their wielders, the warriors of the Emperor cut down all in their path.

Engraved into their very skin were countless runes and texts which shielded them from the darkness of the warp. Encased in the shining and steaming silver Aegis Armor, power armor without equal, they stood fast as the daemon horde counter attacked. Force weapons gleamed under the gaze of the black clouds as they cut daemons down by the thousands, banishing them from the materium, the physical realm.

Storm bolters, psycannons, and incinerators poured death upon the daemonic legions mercilessly. The air around the warriors of the Emperor sparkled as the taint was driven from it and the earth quivered under their feet. The evil of the warp would not stand before them. It could not stand before them.

They were the Chamber Militant of the Ordo Malleus. They were the Grey Knights.

Daemonhunters without peer, they had come to cleanse the world and destroy an evil that had eluded the justice of the Inquisition for many long years. Scores of worlds and even entire systems had fallen to its heathen corruptions, and now, it ended here, on the world of Kall V. There was nowhere left for the evil of Chaos to run.

Three hundred of the mighty and precious Grey Knights could be lost in the process, but to end the ambitions of the hunted Chaos Champion, it was more than worth it. Better to lose such fine soldiers than to risk the evil escaping once again. There was no alternative.

Landing just behind the line of embattled Grey Knights, Squad Thikar exited their drop pods and charged forward, firing over the heads of the those in front and felling droves of chattering and hissing lesser daemons as they rushed down the hills towards the Knights' position.

Brother Georg of Squad Uriel sent hundreds screaming back to the warp as their physical forms burned under the sanctified flames of his incinerator. Justicar Thikar moved up past him with his tactical squad, blasting with his wrist mounted storm bolter and shouting litanies to the Immortal God-Emperor.

"Grey Knights, on me! Advance, in the name of the Emperor!" Captain Mikael cried out over the roar of the battle as Captain Damien and Squad Sagnus were brought down and slaughtered by a horde of slavering daemons when their pods fell off course.

Silently, every knight acknowledged and pressed forward against the surging tides of depraved daemons. The Terminators, wearing legendary Tactical Dreadnought Armor, ploughed through the center of the horde, forming a vicious and shining spearhead that ran down and scattered hundreds. Justicar Thikar and his squad charged up the gap in the daemonic ranks after them, blasting left and right as they went.

The immediate daemon force crumpled, the Terminators slaughtering their rear ranks while the withering salvos to their middle units by Squad Thikar tore them apart. The rest of the knights overran those left standing as they tried to fall back through the Terminators.

Charging up the hill before them, the Grey Knights began to descend into a great valley, filled with millions of foul daemons who moved at them as one giant mass. In the center of the valley, lied the ruins of a once great city. Within its desolation, a massive swirling portal of the warp dominated the horizon. A ring of mighty and terrible greater daemons stood before it.

The upper ground now theirs, the Grey Knights redoubled their efforts and cut huge swathes in the advancing hordes. There was no shortage of targets, and every volley of sanctified bullets obliterated hundreds of the chattering creatures.

Brother Thuemus of Squad Aeric cut down five daemons as they leapt at him , his force halberd hissing as it cut through the daemonic flesh. Ten more surged towards him, and Justicar Ishael killed three with his storm bolter. Justicar Thikar pushed his way up the ranks, slaughtering daemons as he went, trying to reach Brother Thuemus as he destroyed daemons left and right.

He never saw the creature that came behind him and drove a massive rusted spike that seemed fused with its arm through the back of his neck. Gurgling on his blood as he tried to yell in rage, he spun his halberd around and impaled the foul thing on it. He struggled to his feet as it writhed and died behind him, ignoring the gushing blood from the wound in his neck, and blazed away at daemons as they leapt for him with his storm bolter. One leapt over his halberd as he slashed at it and faster than even his superhuman sight could follow, a terrible scything blade made impossibly sharp by the forces of Chaos cut his head from his shoulders.

Seething at the death of a comrade right before his eyes, Thikar moved in and swung his halberd wildly with both hands, expertly impaling and cleaving daemons in droves as they rushed him. His squad quickly moved up by his side, firing their storm bolters and moving forward as they drove the daemons further into the valley.

Captain Mikael scythed his way through the daemonic host, cutting down swathes of lesser daemons with his Nemesis Sword. The Terminator squads charged at the head of the force at his side, breaking through line after line of daemons through sheer weight and physical strength. The rest of the knights quickly followed down the slope, blasting at daemons on the flanks and in front of the Terminators, who had now reached the valley floor.

Running at breakneck speed down the hill, Thikar and many other knights were thrown into the air and down the slope a ways when shapes began to explode from underneath the ground. Screeching daemons without eyes, nostrils, or ears lurched around wildly as they pulled themselves out of the bleeding earth. Their mouths were filled with hundreds of needle like teeth, and their claws were more than three feet long and glistened more than their power armor.

They shambled towards the fallen knights, somehow sensing them, and began wildly stabbing and impaling them as they tried to rise. Thikar cried out and rolled away, barely avoiding losing his head when one came for him, and then rolled back as the daemon tried again. It screeched and came at him with both of its deformed limbs, and he raised his left arm and fired his storm bolter into its appalling face.

Its headless body stumbled and fell across him as it dissolved back into the warp, and he quickly climbed to his feet and retrieved his Force Halberd from the ground. He saw Justicar Uriel and the Terminator Brother Joush torn apart by the long clawed creatures further down the hill and shook with rage.

"Squad, to me!" he cried over the vox.

The surviving members of his squad were behind him in moments, and they charged down the hill as one, blasting daemons off fallen knights and picking up those battle-brothers that still lived as they went. The Terminators were meeting stiff resistance below, and Captain Airel tried to break through the horde ambitiously but was nearly dragged down by the slavering creatures.

As Thikar and his squad reached the valley floor and engaged the main daemonic army once again, the ground began to shake and swell. Lesser daemons were sent flying through the air screaming as greater daemons began to pull themselves out of the ground, fresh from the warp and eager to slaughter the interlopers who would dare to invade their new daemon world.

"The Emperor is with us all this day! Slay these foul creatures, reach the objective! Advance!" Captain Mikael cried.

Massive greater daemons, enormous creatures of near humanoid, reptilian, avian, feline, canine, and other features which boggled the minds of even the Grey Knights charged towards them, crushing hundreds of lesser daemons in the process. The lesser daemons began to break as they were stepped on by their more powerful brethren and slaughtered mercilessly by the knights.

With a great bellow, the some two hundred and forty remaining Grey Knights rushed to meet the greater daemons head on. Ducking under mighty swings and rolling around enormous fists, talons, tails, and feet, the knights swarmed over the greater daemons, stabbing and firing and bringing them to their knees. Captain Mikael's Nemesis Sword hissed as he cut the head from a snarling, dog-like, greater daemon in a single blow.

One, a massive avian daemon wreathed in magic warp fire which glowed a furious blue, crushed five knights under its talons and moved in for more. Captain Airel cried out in rage and rushed the beast, dodging around its great beak and scoring a deep wound on its ankle with his Nemesis Sword. It screeched and suddenly bent down faster than something as large as it should have been able to and batted the captain away with its bony and rotten hand.

As he lay on the ground, stunned, the daemon impaled him on its beak and flung his dying body across the plains, where he landed in the midst the daemonic legions. Even as he was flung to his doom, steady bolter fire still streamed from his gun, inflicting many losses to the daemons below. The avian daemon gloated and turned to destroy the rest of the Grey Knights, but found them already pressing the attack.

Screeching, its talons sought to crush Thikar and his squad as they moved in for the kill, but they dodged around it. Brother Georg doused the advancing lesser daemons with his incinerator and Brother Allakar of Squad Thikar assisted with his psycannon. With the lesser daemons kept off of them, Justicar Thikar and the rest focused on the greater daemon, dodging around its continued attacks.

The Justicar rolled away as it swiped at him with its hand. It shrieked in rage as its talons became lodged fast in the fleshy earth. Justicar Aeric slashed at its foot and cut deep, bringing it to one knee. Thikar, knowing this was likely they only chance they'd get to end it quickly, hopped onto the back of its hand and stuck his halberd into its flesh, holding himself there resolutely.

Even as it ripped its hand out with a screech and tried to throw him off, he remained where he was, his halberd stuck deep into its flesh. Eventually though, his halberd had cut to wide from the constant motion and began to slip out. He shouted a curse of damnation to the daemon as he was flung into the air. It craned its head up towards him, expectantly opening its beak to crush him as he fell into it.

He instead overshot the beak, landing on its hideous face. To late it saw the Grey Knight as he jumped for its forehead and brought his halberd down with tremendous force between its mad eyes.

The greater daemon screeched in agony as it fell to the ground, its physical form burning away and returning to the warp even as it collapsed. Thikar landed on his feet sloppily and sank to his knees, exhausted. He turned around as his squad rushed to him. The rest of the knights were still pushing ahead through the daemons towards the city, slaying greater and lesser daemon alike.

"Excellent work, Justicar," said Captain Mikael over the vox to him. "Now let us finish this. For out departed Brothers' memory."

Nodding, Thikar stood up again and motioned for his squad. They formed up quickly and moved out at the side of Squad Ishael and the survivors of Squad Uriel. Together, the three squads hit the daemons hard and rejoined the main force. Thikar noted with rage that their numbers were all to clearly falling. They had to get to that gate and fast.

"The Emperor protects! Show these foul creatures the true might of the Emperor!" cried Justicar Ishael.

With one last great push, the Grey Knights shattered the daemon battle line despite their failing numbers and poured into the city. Squad Uriel, its numbers horribly depleted, was cut off as the daemons encircled them. They fought valiantly, inflicting a death toll hundreds high each, but they could not last forever against so many of the foe. Within minutes, they were overran and slaughtered.

Captain Mikael and Terminator Squad Hilekas were at the head of the Grey Knights' final charge when the circle of greater daemons around the portal roared and broke off, flying and running towards them. The lesser daemons scattered, their will broken as the very presence of the seemingly unstoppable knights began to dissolve them back into the warp. Only the eight greater daemons remained to threaten the Grey Knights as they halted before them.

Their skin was a dark crimson, their eyes bloodshot. Massive gore covered horns grew forwards from their heads. They beat great bat-like wings and stamped the ground with their hooves, snorting impatiently. They were a meld of horrible daemon and goat, so much like ancient humanity's favored depiction of their demons. But that belittled them and their ferocity so much it was almost criminal.

They were Bloodthirsters, chosen daemons of the Blood God, Khorne. Their bodies bulged with strength enough to tear apart a baneblade super-heavy tank. The axes and barbed whips they wielded made them all the more dangerous, and they knew how to use them expertly. This was a battle of the sorts that precious few of the Grey Knights save the veteran Terminators had faced before. A true king of daemons stood before them, ready to destroy them all.

And what was more...there were eight of them.

The Bloodthirsters screeched and came at the knights faster than seemed possible, real space almost bending around them, but the warriors of the Emperor were ready.

"For the Chapter, for Titan, for Holy Terra! For the Emperor!" roared Captain Mikael, swinging his Nemesis Sword around and pointing it towards the Bloodthirsters.

Like a gleaming silver tide, the Grey Knights charged forward to meet the Bloodthirsters of Khorne.

-

AN: So, the war is over and Lloyd is home, but he must still wage a war against his tormented mind. The Grey Knights are fighting a desperate battle against the daemonic hordes of Chaos in order to hunt down and destroy the Master. But where is the Master? What is he? And what is that portal that he went through?

Find out all this and more next time, on What Must Be Done!

If you want the next chapter to be written faster, you WILL review. It is a NICE thing to do, ya know!


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